Walt watches the red haired chick for a while, an amused grin on his face. It's not the most usual thing to him to see girls that excited about video games, but it's welcome. Sauntering over, he stands next to her, his hands in his pockets as he asks, "You up for somebody else joining in the game?"
Danica gave him a cursory glance before her gaze turned back on the game again.
"...Okay." Suddenly nervous though she was, she managed a smile and hit pause, scooting over to give him room to sit. "I feel it right to warn you that I'm really good. Stupidly good. I don't really know how..." She trailed off in wonderment, then shook her head and came back to earth. "And I take no prisoners."
Grinning back at her, Walt sits down next to her, taking the controller he finds. "In that case," he gives her a shrug, "I think I should warn you I'm not good at this?" He gestures at the paused screen.
Then he gives her another grin and tells her, "I learn real quick, though. I'm Walt."
Danica let out an unexpected laugh, feeling a little giddy. There was a hot guy talking to her and wanting to play video games. Could it get any better? Inwardly, she rolled her eyes but she couldn't stop the embarrassed smile from showing.
"And I also think I should warn you that I'm not good in social situations and I'm finding it a little hard to breathe now," she let out quickly, sucking in a breath and fanning her face. The least Danica could do is warn anybody wanting to talk to her neurotic and thankfully temporary self and give them time to back away slowly. And since she absolutely did not want anybody to know that it was actually her playing the game, she added: "I'm Cyd...uh...I think it's short for something. Doesn't it sound short for something to you? I think it does, I tend to talk a lot too, I'm sorry."
Seeing myself playing video games is bizarre. Completely bizarre. Is that how I always look? I know I don't exactly say DIE to the TV, which is a little worrying, actually.
"Hey! Who are you?!" I exclaim, pleased to not feel worried about approaching her...him...me? like I'd usually be. "I mean. I know who you are, you're me, but who are you?"
I'm glad I at least...seem myself. And I'm not out in the jungle (which I worried about, oh god).
"No, but you are in my body," I say, pointing an accusing finger. I even sound a little more commanding in this body, especially with the accent. "Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you."
"Ohh, you own this?" Danica peered up and offered the man an apologetic smile. "Now I really am sorry." And she sounded stupidly genuine with this voice too.
"Here. There. Mostly here. You threw up on Fitch Cooper, by the way. And I'm fairly certain you asked to see him naked." Danica's own memories were a little sketchy regarding that, on account of the fact she'd blocked it from her mind.
"How long have you been at this?" Asher asked from where he was sitting on the arm of the couch. He had been there for going on ten minutes now and she'd been too focused on the game to so much as acknowledge his existence. There might have been a noncommittal grunt earlier, but more likely than not, it was directed at something happening on the screen and not meant as a greeting.
"A couple of minutes...?" Danica replied after a long stretch of silence, like the words had to seep through the game-haze surrounding her brain. "Six at most." Maybe ten, who was counting? She had still yet to break her focus and was only 80% sure it was even Asher she was talking to. For a brief split second, she peeked out the corner of her eye and was satisfied that it was someone who looked like him, at least.
"...of course you have." If he listened really closely Asher was almost certain that he could hear the sound of braincells sizzling by the thousands.
"What's the objective? I mean, kill things dead, obviously, but why?" Mario didn't go tromping through drainpipes, terrorizing goombas and flying turtles for the hell of it; there was a girl involved. Maybe it was the same with this one. There could totally have been a love story under all the blood and guts.
"Don't know." She replied mechanically, but after a moment, she hit pause and looked over at him. "Has there ever needed to be a reason to wreak havoc and spill blood?" Not in her world. Reaching down, she pulled up another console and changed the game to two player, so they were working together.
"Come slaughter people with me," she offered, holding the console out. "It'll be like old times."
Despite having been on the island for some time, now, there were still myriads of things that baffled Pete on a daily basis. Videogames, previously undiscovered by some stroke of luck -- or misfortune, depending on how you wanted to look at it -- were one of these things. He'd been surprised by all of the futuristic (to him, anyway) equipment lying around the first time he'd seen them, but this?
Actually controlling something that was on the screen?
That was ridiculous.
(Not to mention the fact that the girl sitting at the controls -- or what he assumed were the controls, anyway -- was whipping up a vindictive storm.)
As such, he stood somewhat awkwardly near the doorway, eyes glued on the screen in something akin to complete bewilderment.
"I have no idea," Danica replied honestly, "but I love it."
Actually, she had some idea but only because she'd spent hours the day before learning how to play. She was a complete natural, even if she did say so herself.
"Wanna try?" She moved a console towards him with her foot, fingers still moving on her controls.
Although he did move a little closer at the suggestion, the expression on Pete's face could still only be described as dubious.
Picking up the console as if it might grow teeth and bite him at any moment, he turned it this way and that, trying to piece together some logical way that this might possibly be linked to the little avatar running about on the screen. To be fair, remotes, while around during his time, only became widespread about a decade after his time.
"No, no, no! What are you doing?!" Danica gasped and her eyes widened as her avatar died a slow, painful death. "You killed me!" She whirled on him. "Murderer!"
It was a little something the games he really liked playing back at home, and it was actually great to see someone playing with so much...enthusiasm. He had been an enthusiastic game player - not quite like this, of course, but it was - well. He wasn't completely sure that she was having fun, but she was enjoying herself. They were not, contrary to what people thought, mutually exclusive in meaning. At least, not to Chekov. When he was thinking about what he was witnessing here.
"That...is some very admiring playing," he said brightly, when it didn't look like distraction would kill her avatar.
"Thanks," Danica replied automatically, leaving her gaze glued to the screen as she slaughtered another character. If people wanted to watch for tips on how to beat her high score, then they had to offer her something in return. It was only fair. "Costs you a glass of juice for every three minutes you stare," she warned. "I think you owe me one already."
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"...Okay." Suddenly nervous though she was, she managed a smile and hit pause, scooting over to give him room to sit. "I feel it right to warn you that I'm really good. Stupidly good. I don't really know how..." She trailed off in wonderment, then shook her head and came back to earth. "And I take no prisoners."
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Then he gives her another grin and tells her, "I learn real quick, though. I'm Walt."
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"And I also think I should warn you that I'm not good in social situations and I'm finding it a little hard to breathe now," she let out quickly, sucking in a breath and fanning her face. The least Danica could do is warn anybody wanting to talk to her neurotic and thankfully temporary self and give them time to back away slowly. And since she absolutely did not want anybody to know that it was actually her playing the game, she added: "I'm Cyd...uh...I think it's short for something. Doesn't it sound short for something to you? I think it does, I tend to talk a lot too, I'm sorry."
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"Hey! Who are you?!" I exclaim, pleased to not feel worried about approaching her...him...me? like I'd usually be. "I mean. I know who you are, you're me, but who are you?"
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"I'm sorry, am I in your seat?" she asked, barely listening to him.
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"No, but you are in my body," I say, pointing an accusing finger. I even sound a little more commanding in this body, especially with the accent. "Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you."
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"Here. There. Mostly here. You threw up on Fitch Cooper, by the way. And I'm fairly certain you asked to see him naked." Danica's own memories were a little sketchy regarding that, on account of the fact she'd blocked it from her mind.
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"What's the objective? I mean, kill things dead, obviously, but why?" Mario didn't go tromping through drainpipes, terrorizing goombas and flying turtles for the hell of it; there was a girl involved. Maybe it was the same with this one. There could totally have been a love story under all the blood and guts.
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"Come slaughter people with me," she offered, holding the console out. "It'll be like old times."
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Actually controlling something that was on the screen?
That was ridiculous.
(Not to mention the fact that the girl sitting at the controls -- or what he assumed were the controls, anyway -- was whipping up a vindictive storm.)
As such, he stood somewhat awkwardly near the doorway, eyes glued on the screen in something akin to complete bewilderment.
"What -- is that?"
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Actually, she had some idea but only because she'd spent hours the day before learning how to play. She was a complete natural, even if she did say so herself.
"Wanna try?" She moved a console towards him with her foot, fingers still moving on her controls.
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Picking up the console as if it might grow teeth and bite him at any moment, he turned it this way and that, trying to piece together some logical way that this might possibly be linked to the little avatar running about on the screen. To be fair, remotes, while around during his time, only became widespread about a decade after his time.
He goes for pressing the biggest button on it.
(It's got to do something, right?)
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"That...is some very admiring playing," he said brightly, when it didn't look like distraction would kill her avatar.
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