Participants:
| Scene Title | Blinded |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | An afternoon of bowling leaves a few temporarily blinded. |
| Date | September 12, 2011 |
The desk at the front accepts players' money and rents out the flat-bottomed shoes used in bowling alleys anywhere. Plaques from past tournaments held at Kingpin's line the posts on either side of the counter, along with an assortment of pictures and posters.
Thin red carpet covers the floor as far as the broad, shallow stairs leading down into the bowling pit. An assortment of vending and arcade game machines line the back wall; a counter and corresponding line of stools provide places for people to watch the games while they eat. Snacks are not, of course, allowed on the floor.
Below the stairs are the computers controlling the lanes and the games, with groups of chairs clustered about. Beyond them are the hardwood-paneled lanes, just waiting for pins to be set; behind, in the shadow of the counter, are shelves and shelves of bowling balls in all sizes and colors.
Some people play hookey. Some people just don't really have a job or they took a day off. The waning days of summer with the promise of fall coming, means that people are still seeking out air conditioning to make it through the day. One of those places is the Kingpin Bowling Alley where they can go, pay some dollars and in the cool dark lanes, toss balls down the lanes, drink back a few beers and otherwise waste away the day.
The lanes are spottily filled, the arcade in the recesses with some teenagers playing hookey and feeding quarters into the machines in an effort to immortalize their initials. posters announce the local tournaments, ad's for the league games that happen in the evenings and white pins gleam even as one small group sends their scattering with the resounding whoop and holler of someone who struck a spare.
Savannah's never been good at bowling. She doesn't even really like bowling. However there's a bit of food, a bit of drink, and it's always interesting to see who's lurking about in the lanes. She's seated herself at a table back from the lanes proper, notebook out in front of her and a half-drunk cup of coke near her right hand. Her pen remains perched between fingers, occasionally fiddled with as Savannah watches or daydreams a bit before she jots a few words occasionally or begins to write in a furious scribble.
Ever have that feeling like you've been stood up? It happens to the best of us, and it really sucks. Sometimes, it even happens to local indie stars - friends being assholes know no social barrier, and that's why Robyn Quinn sits at one of the lane consoles, a bored look on her face as her bowling shoes clack clack against the wood floor with every annoyed tap, "Ravenfall" blinking from the screen overhead as it waits for the entry of more names.
Fingers tap against her cheek as she lets out a bit of a huff, eyes closing momentarily. Bowling isn't really her thing, much less in the middle of the afternoon - if Quinn's going bowling, it's going to be late at night when there's blacknights, beer, and probably some weed. iPhone picked up, glanced at, and a sigh issue, Quinn rises up from her sat, going tp mill about the alley as she straighten her purple button up shirt. She'll give Royce a few more minutes to call her, and then she's out of here, hopefully without anyone stopping to bother her. For once, she doesn't really feel like signing a CD or something.
Neither work nor school nor other commitments to skip out on, but a few dollars to spend however he'd like, Devon escaped both the monotony of living in hiding and the ever-watchful eye of the audiokinetic den mother to snag a few hours of his own. What better way to spend time away from the house than in the casually ignored company of those bowling alley patrons. One can enjoy a game or greasy food and simply be another face in the crowd for a while, with nothing to worry about but potential heart burn.
Stepping away from the counter with a pair of shoes, the teenager angles his way toward the lanes. He gazes over the others playing, casual and without actually looking for anyone, as he pauses his approach briefly to select a ball from the racks.
Boom
There's another strike from the team near the middle, adjacent to the lane that Devon has been assigned which sandwiched between them and Quinn's stood up date lane. "Fuck yeah!" A tall blonde guy's fist goes up in the air, pumping it a few times as he struts back to his small group. Hair falling into his face, skinny jeans that hang a bit and held up by a belt, grey t-shirt, he's possibly college aged. "beat that asshole" He points a finger to his friend, mimicking a pistol with his thumb and a forefinger, sighting down them, knocking it back before slumping down in his seat to look around, see who all has come back in.
"Yeah fucking right Freddy, gonna leave you in my dust" "Bullshit to that! Just you try it!" His gaze lands on Savannah, arms spread across the back of the long bench he's on and gives her a wink while one of his other buddies is making eyes at Quinn.
Wait, what? She's being winked at? Savannah seems a little startled, almost confused that the gesture was made in her direction. What? She peers down at her notebook contemplatively before she looks back towards the lanes to see who, overall, seems to be winning. Quinn's waiting catches her attention for a moment, noting the fact that she seems to be alone.
The outburst gets Quinn's attention too, startling her a bit turns and looks back towards the lanes. Pulling her phone form her pocket, she grumbles as she watches the boys continue to play, mostly by proxy of them happening to be in the direction she's looking. She's not oblivious to the looks she may be getting, but she's choosing not to acknowledge them. And when her phone turns up another turn to voice mail, she sighs and shakes her head, looking over towards the counter - and spying Devon. Well, there's something she didn't expect.
Absently, Devon pulls a ball off the rack, his fingers pressed into the trio of holes to carry it at his side. His attention is, like those nearest the scene, on the group of men already engaged in a game. His brows arch upward at their jeering as he makes his way toward the lanes, edging past Savannah's table and suppressing a sigh to find himself assigned to the one beside the loud group. He turns his attention to his own lane and, catching Quinn's gaze, gives her a faint nod.
"Hey, why don't you come play with us?" The more polite of the group offers to Devon as it seems that their game is going to come to a quick end. More fun in groups is it not? Or at least seems to be his opinion even as Freddy's switching his attention to Quinn and offers up the same though with a fraction more cockiness. "You too beautiful, come on over, do a game with us, you and the lady back there" He jerks a thumb at Savannah, another wink. "Or you just oging to write in your book all afternoon? It's a bowling alley, come bowl"
"Uh, I'm not really good at bowling, it's not exactly my kind of thing. So I'll stay here, thank you," Savannah says, tapping her pen lightly against her notebook. "But you all go on and have fun, I'm just going to enjoy my soda here and work."
"Lady?" Of course that's the part that gets Quinn's attention, looking off in the same direction as Freddy until her eyes finally fall on Savannah, causing her to pause and blink, head tilting to the side. Today is just full of surprises, it would seem.
Turning her attention back to the boys, she saves a had at them, a sort of polite dismissal, even as she takes a few steps in their direction. "I'm already waiting on a few people, sorry, I can't really get in on another game." ANother, of course, assuming that her friends show up for the one that she already paid for. Devon, though!" she starts, looking over towards him with a grin. "I bet he'd love t' play. Wouldn't you, Devon?" And with that, she motions him over towards where the others are playing, completely uncaring about if her younger friend actually has any desire to play with them
Now thoroughly amused, she starts moving towards Savannah's table. Let it not be said that Robyn Quinn isn't a hypocrite - while she may not be on the same level of stardom as Ms. Burton, her own desire not to be bothered isn't going to keep her from doing the exact same thing to the author.
His plan was actually to shake his head and more, or less, ignore the group. Devon's head had been half way into the response when Quinn speaks up for him, earning her an eye roll. Thanks, he mouths at her, sarcasm evident, before turning to regard Freddy and his friends. He, unfortunately, showed up alone with no plans to meet anyone. Coming up with a justifiable reason to decline isn't quick in coming. "Man," he breathes, giving a single shake of his head and stepping toward the group, "she's so getting paid back for this."
Someone's getting paid for something, or quite possibly will be paying for something because a grin crosses Freddy's face as Devon gives his little ultimatum. Freddy unfolds from where his lanky body was arranged with a smile on his face. "Awesome" Maybe for him. Not so much for Quinn and Devon when the blonde haired guy lets his ability loose.
One moment everyone is hunkey dorey, the next, not so for those evolved as almost like a light switch, they're activated and unable to turn that switch back off. His friends are carrying on with their ninth frame and Freddy's just grinning like a fool and offering up his hand for Devon.
All QUinn does as she turns from Devon is smirk - she wins this round! Or so it would seem, at least, as she approaches Savannah, her smirk shrinking into a less devious looking smile as she reaches the author's table. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Ms. Burton," she says, extending her hand out in greeting - and then stopping dead as she finally realizes that she's freaking glowing.
Well, glowing isn't exactly right. It's like someone flipped on a light-bulb, and it decided to get up and start walking around, shedding bright light into every corner of the bowling alley, a few motes of light flickering off of Quinn's form, and her eyes go wide with horror as she with draws her hand back - in that moment causing the light off her form to flare much brighter, blindingly so to those close by to her. "W-what the hell?!" isn't shouted, but it certainly isn't said quietly as she starts looking around for someone who could be playing a joke on her, that light radiating from her dimming back down significantly. Not enough to keep the room from having and extra bit of light, but enough that it only seems like a bright glow coming off of Quinn.
Unfortunately, there's not anyone she knows besides maybe Colette could make her light up like a christmas tree, and she doesn't have hopes that high.
[OOC] Ling says, "Just for reference, that's pretty bright. Quinn's shown she can flare up extremely bright (at her peak, I think Manny and I described it as being like a lighthouse light), so with her ability suddenly out of her entire control I figure it flares up pretty damn bright for a moment."
After placing his ball on the return, Devon nods to those already in the lane. "Hey," he offers generally, slanting a look toward Quinn. Yeah, he knows where she works, he can come up with a way to repay this little fiasco. The look lingers, going from deadpan and unhumored to squinted surprise and uncertainty. Freddy is left hanging, the teen's attention on the glowing woman for a long moment. Then, clearing his throat, he turns back to the game extending his hand to Freddy with a shrug toward Quinn's display. "This is the last time I go into a bowling alley without my sunglasses."
Oh, right! She's being addressed again. Savannah looks over towards Quinn in response only to have a lighthouse flashing in her eyes. Her arm comes up over her eyes and she reflexively reaches and snatches her notebook. Quinn isn't the only one wanting to know what the hell is going on. The blonde keeps her eyes shut, not sure if it's wiser to try and open them a crack or just keep them shut until she has an idea how safe it is.
Woah, someone turned the light bright on to full and even then some as people turn away, Quinn's display - unavoidable that it is - of ability that makes the individuals in the small group of guys throw their arms up like Savannah, Freddy's turning away with the same reaction even as his ability drops. Unexpected by others - possibly by even him - the individual manning the front desk at this place is easing his way around the counter with a "Hey! Knock that shit out" Aimed at Quinn while others turn away from the photokinetic.
"I- I'm trying to!" Quinn protests as she looks around in horror - this is probably the most embarrassing thing that's happened to her in public in a really long time, not exactly helped by the nature of this little accident. She's sure, when someone hands this story off to someone at one of the local tabloids or magazines, someone will have a field day with it, and that's not really something she wants or can afford to put up with.
And then sudenly, she's out, like it never even happened. Her own arms, raised in protest at the desk clerk, fall limply too her side, adn she takes a few deep breaths, looking and feeling extremely anxious as she looks around at all the people looking at her. She musters a remarkably uneasy smile and a small wave, before looking back at the desk clerk. "I-I'm sorry, t-that's never happened before, //ever," she stammers out embarrassedly, before pulling her phone out and taking a half step back. "I'm just- going t' go. Don't worry about the game that never got started on lane eight," she continues as she turns, iPhone raised to her ear. "Hey, Royce, I have no idea where you are, but I'll meet up with you some other time…" Can be heard as she makes her way towards the door, her other arm wrapped around her midsection.
Glancing over again when the counter guy starts in, Devon sidles closer to a seat on the bench. His hands retract to be pushed into his pockets, a small furrowing of his brow partially remnant of the brightness. Spots, the inverted reflection from looking at a too bright light floats in his field of vision. But the frown is in part also to the attitude of the man. He presses his lips together, a look going over to the guys he's with then returning in time to watch Quinn make her escape. "Hope she's okay," he says to himself, wondering if he should follow. After a few seconds, his gaze flicks to Savannah, questioning.
Savannah's just barely peeking out from behind her arm now, still having a bit of trouble focusing thanks to the light. She does, however, hear Quinn retreat to the exit and her head turns in that direction even if she can't see the other woman well. "Blast," she mutters to herself, fingers fumbling for the cap of her pen. Well that ruins this outing. She'll have to stumble home and hope that the other woman was okay, as it seems the rest of the bowlers didn't have much of a problem.
The afternoon is finished for a lot of people since more than a few are having trouble seeing, having been temporarily blinded by Quinn's uncontrolled display. It'll clear up after a few minutes, till then there will be stumbling players, Quinn's escape something she can easily do without fanfare or notice. Most here are frankly just glad that she's gone and the light has receded.
A few hours from now, it'll be a story to be told to the leaguer's who come in, and joked about. Freddy and his friends will be gone and it'll be a bad memory - possibly a headache or two to those present.