1605/Charity Dates And Laughs

Charity Dates And Laughs
Date of Scene:	18 February 2015
Location:	Bar and Grill at the Edge of the Multiverse
Synopsis:	Arthur and Pinkie go on a date. It is HILARIOUSLY AWKWARD.
Cast of Characters:	Arthur Lowell, 470

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Pinkie (470) has posed:
    Oh man, oh man it look like a party.
    Dates are like parties right? Which means they must be carefully prepared for, done at the perfect locale, and cannot possibly go wrong or they will be completely, totally, and utterly, RUINED.
    It looks like one booth in the bar and grill has been lavishly decorated. Pink tablecloth, baloons everywhere, a huge neon sign with an arrow pointing to it that literally says 'OVER HERE, ARTHUR!' in flashing colors.
    "It's almost time, it's almost time, it's almost tiiime!"
    There's a pony here. No shit seriously, a pink pony with curly mane, hooves, and a kind of creepy porcelain clown mask. And two smaller ponies helping her set everything up. At least until she shoos them off.
    This can't possibly go wrong in any way, shape, or form.

Arthur Lowell has posed:
    Arthur Lowell is here! Oh god. He seems kind of like he wishes he wasn't. Walking into the Bar and Grill, Arthur immediately backs right out and pins his back to the doorframe, trying to figure out how to approach this with a sort of panic. Then he takes a moment to desperately assemble his facade of coolness. It's okay, he'll get inside in just a moment. Despite someone /else/ signing him up for this of course.

    Getting all his coolkid shell in order, he swaggers in with a posture of forced confidence, slipping over to the booth. "SHIT, yo." He declares with a wry grin. "You're lookin' like HALF THE FUN here, you already HAD, just SETTIN' UP." A few good-humored chuckles. "Almost FEEL BAD sittin' down, usin' up all this SWEET PARTY you set up. Nice t'MEETCHA, I'm ARTHUR LOWELL! ROCKET-POWERED JERK, KNOW-NOTHING PUNK, all that stuff." He'll probably take a seat almost immediately, unless Pinkie decides to go after a... Handshake? Hell, who knows what she'll figure is socially acceptable greeting here.

    Internally, of course, his reaction is a different matter. 'Oh my god balloons, I'm going to look so goddamn silly. It's like a horrifying mix between some kind of prom and a little kid's birthday, wrapped up in a date. Oh god no.'

Pinkie (470) has posed:
    Welcome to someone's clear and calculated attempt to ruin the social standing of Arthur Lowell. That's what this has to be, with the way this has been set up. Heaveb forbid if someone sees the legendary cool kid himself on a date with a pink pony. Heaven forbid if there are any PICTURES taken.
    Someone is bound to take pictures.
    Nevertheless, when Arthur makes his appearance and approach everything comes to a complete and jarring halt. He's greetin', he's going for his seat, and Pinkie is looking like a deer in the headlights; completely crashed and looking as if stricken in the middle of a hardcore mental blue screen.
    And then comes the GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASP.
    Just like that, she's fucking gone. Fast enough to leave a Pinkie Pie shaped outline of dust and clouds where she was standing a moment before, while she darts behind the nearest set of drapes. Cold feet? Or hooves, in her case maybe.
    There's some rustling, the sounds of mild panic occuring, some gibbering-- a hand saw and power drill- and then she pops back out again. Where there was a full on pink pony moments before, there's now a girl in a fairly nice purple and black party dress, pink hair done up in huge curls. Thankfully the creepy clown mask is swapped for something a little more matching as she slides a black domino mask into place, and seats herself as well.
    "HI!" Well at least she's pretty exuberant too. "I know you! You're always on the radio! Oh we finally get to meet now, huh?! I'M PINKIE PIE."

Arthur Lowell has posed:
    Arthur takes a brief moment, when Pinkie disappears, to let out a relieved, held breath. Phew. 'Okay, thank god, I managed to pull out of this. That was lucky. Maybe she's just as nervous about this shit as I am? Man that would be great.' But then she's back! Okay, technically the mask is an improvement, it was a /little/ scary before, but this is still an intimidating outfit. And, oh god, the curls, it's like drillhair poised for murder. And then she starts being more enthusiastic than Arthur! Uh oh, he can overwhelm with energy!

    He's on the backfoot now, no doubt about it. But, he desperately tries to keep what little footing he has. "DAMN, LADY," He declares with a definitive voice and a broad grin, looking her up and down. "Anyone ELSE, I'da said you went from ZERO to RITZ in NO TIME FLAT, but that'd be INSINUATIN' you STARTED AT ZERO. Hell of a PRETTY LOOK for a TWO SECOND TAILOR and a HIGH-SPEED HAIRDRESSER. But yeah, I think I REMEMBER YOU! There's the RADIO, plus I got a LINE from NESS, sorta, you know that guy. Actually not much COHERENT TALKING about that one. What's your DEAL around there?" Arthur launches eagerly into talking about Pinkie, trying to get off the backfoot a bit.

    'Jesus christ,' Arthur thinks. 'I am completely out of my depth, I'm not supposed to meet people who're trying to outpace my energy, this is going to be completely beyond me unless I can get the conversation to focus on her.' Getting a little nervous, but still forcing the broad confident grins, compliments, and conversation.

Pinkie (470) has posed:
    It's not that Pinkie is actively TRYING to be as near explosive as she is. ... It just sort of happens. It's how things go when around her. How one person can be so boundlessly, limitlessly, energized is questionable on levels of 'can she feasibly be used to power a city'.
    The new mask is a lot less creepy indeed, though doesn't effectively hide some pretty terrible looking scars that peek out around the edges- leading to perhaps the reason she has it on in the first place, but she doesn't seem to let that stop her overlymuch, flashing a big old grin. And when does, there's something of an odd *~squee~* sound that seems to come from... Somewhere. "Well in my line of work you kind of have to be a quick-change artist." She replies humbly, before clarifying: "I'm a professional clown~." Which would explain the balloons and decorations and shit. Before realization dawns and she claps her hands once. "Oh, right, you know Federal Agent too-- OH YOU WERE AT HIS SAFEHOUSE THAT ONE TIME. I brought donuts that time." That time she was also wielding knives and a more killer attitude, but...
    "What about YOU? I hear you fly around on like a rocket broom all WHOOSH and SWEEP SWEEP and HOT BLOOD."
    Nope. Looks like she's pressing poor Arthur in a terrible back and forth social cat and mousery.

Arthur Lowell has posed:
    Oh hell! Scars. Arthur is internally an /extremely/ squeamish guy, so there's a bit of awkwardness there, but he continues to keep it entirely under his hat, so to speak. "Well HELL." He says, trying to keep his footing while he tries to glance around for that squee. Are these balloons deflating? "You seem DAMN GOOD at it. Plenty of dude around need to LOOSEN UP some, that shit's a ROCK SOLID MARKET for ya, ain't EVER gonna lose your DEMAND." His smiling is nervous, but it's smiling!

    One eye squints a bit. "You WERE? I don't remember." Then, "OH, the DONUTS. Man, I couldn't recognize you AT ALL for some reason." He makes a silly sort of self-depreciating "pbbbffft" noise. "Man, must'a been a different MASK or something." He points and grins. "Those things are pretty STYLIN' by the way, a good MASK is GREAT for making ANY kinda work STYLISH. You wear 'em ALL THE TIME, or this just sort of a SPECIAL OCCASIONS thing?" This bit of dialogue is meant entirely to try to deflect the blunt nervousness trauma being slammed into him by the realization of how potentially dangerous Pinkie is too.

    "A-ANYWAY, YEAH, I'm THAT GUY. ROCKET-POWERED JERK with the BOILING BLOOD! I just do a bit of PROFESSIONAL ADVENTURING and doing the SYNDICATE NETWORK stuff. GOOD GIGS. Hahaha, probably not as FUNNY for TALKING ABOUT as your gig. All my stories, KINDA HORRIBLE. 'Course, sounds like you've kinda got your OWN experience there? I mean, if the MEETING with NESS was normal, you probably got some ADVENTURING you got done too!"

    'Idiot, idiot, idiot, why ask about the masks, look at the scars, /obviously/ this is connected, that's rude as hell to bring up. Don't ask about her murders either! Oh my god you're going to ruin dinner before it even gets here.' Arthur is agonizing internally, of course, compounded by the sudden shift in understanding of his date here, but most of it seems to be social awkwardness. Very thoroughly hidden under Arthur's coolkid exterior, though, or at least there's some effort there.

Pinkie (470) has posed:
    Now now! Pinkie is absolutely harmless. Just look at that smile. Or well, she's harmless when there are no knives around. Unfortunately she decides right about now to pick up one of the dinner knives on the table and begins twirling it in her fingers with a lightning display of nimble and far-too-practiced dexterity. "TELL ME ABOUT IT." She seems to take no offense when asked about her masks, but saves that topic of conversation for a moment, "So many people are just too grumpy! It's astounding, like I can't believe it!"
    A huff and that knife is juggled to her other hand in a deft motion as she nabs up her fork and repeats the process. "All the time! I've got a load of 'em! Except to sleep- they're a killer on my sinuses and get super stuffy, and then I snore like a BEAR." It's not the most flattering admission, but the filters most normal people seem to have don't... Seem to be in place on this girl.
    they don't seem to be installed anywhere nearby her, either. "--Okay scratch that, I have a sleep mask- it has little stars painted on it. Except. It's just a sleep mask not a mask mask." Maybe now would be a good time to change topics and--
    "Drinks?"
    Drinks sound like a good idea, maybe. "I run into Federal Agent a lot. He kind of sort of works for an old friend of mine who I'm not much friends with now anymore. Because she's mean."
    That's some good reasoning there. "Oh huh what's it like in the Syndicate? I keep hearing about it, I know Federal Agent's in it too."

Arthur Lowell has posed:
    "Buncha DUDES 'round the MULIVERSE so goddamn HIGH STRUNG they're practically VIOLINS ON AIRPLANES, yeah." Arthur says, nervously eying that knife that Pinkie starts spinning. What a hypocrite! Oh well. The abject lack of filter just makes Arthur try to put up even more of his own while still trying to seem authentic. "Shit, gotta give RESPECT, takes some DEDICATION to keep the SWAG ON, DAWN TO DUSK." He says, casually. "RIGHT, DRINKS. I'mma get a PEPSI for now, I think." Guy's not fancy. No drink-drinks here. He's gonna order rather politely, from the waiting staff, but he does aside: "Need me to GRAB anything?" He can head to the bar if that's Pinkie's sort of thing. He does have an ID for 13.7 billion years even if he looks kinda like a kid.

    "Ergh." Arthur says, making a 'bleh' face at that last part. "Man, FRIENDSHIP FALLOUTS. No fun, 'spellcially when it MIXES AROUND the WORK and SOCIAL CIRCLES." He makes a plaintive shrug. "WELL, what're gonna do, RIGHT? Seemed like you were OK with THAT GUY, the AGENT I mean, so sounds like you're HANDLIN' IT REASONABLY. And, SYNDICATE..." Arthur looks a little uneasy, but it's only visible just through the cracks in his facade. "HAHA, well, YOU KNOW. It's mostly about gettin' people JOBS, so, MY experience with that stuff is just JOB STUFF. Since my JOB is ADVENTURES, it's a lotta FIGHTING and SHOUTING and SHIT LIKE THAT, but what it's LIKE all depends on the JOB you're after."

    He grins, trying to get back his social edge. "So, I'd say, it'd probably be PRETTY FUNNY for you. WHO KNOWS, though."

Pinkie (470) has posed:
    Giggle!
    Violins on airplanes. The analogy seems to be good enough to get a clown giggling. Because one hand comes up to cover Pinkie's mouth and stifle herself. Note: She put the knife down before doing this.
    But then she's nodding vigorously. "Oh yes, I'm very dedicated. Fifteen years of nonstop training in the school of laughs!" She explains without clarifying much further. "Cider for me, please!" She also doesn't clarify if she means the alcoholic or non-alcoholic variety.
    Good luck, Arthur.
    "Oh yes, Federal Agent is nice! I like him a lot, and he's really good at killing zombies. Again. So that makes up for hanging out with a certain Frownface McGrumpypants. --But that sounds like a lot of fun! I was meaning to look into the Syndicate. I could use some new adventure. With less zombies."
    This is when she pauses. And then flusters a little with a fidget. Because she has an admission to make. "Eheh... Heh... I'm not boring you, am I? Because I haven't really been on a date in well... Uh. Ever."

Arthur Lowell has posed:
    Arthur's gonna slip out to grab a drink 'Shit, alcohol or no? I mean she's kinda kiddish but that doesn't have anything to do with age. Uhhhh... Shit!' Arthur winds up coming back with alcoholic cider. Oh well. When he gets back, he slides the drink to Pinkie gracefully over the table, using his expert kinematic sense. "Yeah, most IMPORTANT part of survivin' the SYNDICATE is understandin' how to NOT LIKE someone while still not bein' a JERK about it to EVERYONE AROUND 'em. You wanna get some ADVENTURE, I'll toss ya a LINK, sound good?" He grins widely, a bit too much so, but the arrangement isn't really risky.

    Then the flustered admission. "...Ha, N-NO, I think I've got PLENTY excitement here." Arthur says. "Trust me, I know EXACTLY how you FEEL, that's TOTALLY NORMAL. You're FINE, everything's GOOD. Hell, I'm kinda feelin' the SAME WAY." Pause. "I MEAN WOULD. WOULD be feelin' the same way." An intense look. "I've been on TONS of DATES, DEFINITELY. So NOT ANYMORE."

    Smooth.