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[BtI] Date 1, Turn 1 (Active Player=Rich)
[OOC: As the first date begins, our Attraction is at 1, and there are no Compatibilities established.
That means, Andrea, that you will have four possible dice to award initially, if I do my job right: 1 for Attraction (beginning the turn with something that might make the Active Player's character more attractive to the Guide's character); and 3 Bonus Dice.]
That means, Andrea, that you will have four possible dice to award initially, if I do my job right: 1 for Attraction (beginning the turn with something that might make the Active Player's character more attractive to the Guide's character); and 3 Bonus Dice.]
Comments
I'm punctual when I come to pick you up. I spent the afternoon washing, waxing and detailing my big blue pick-up truck. Aside from my plane, it's my pride and joy. I sent you a text from the curb, and then headed up to knock on your door. I'm nervous, but I'm wearing a nice, button-up shirt and slacks, some new clothes I picked up this week. Blue shirt, my favorite color, tan pants. I fretted over the fact that I look a little like a Best Buy employee, but it isn't a golf shirt, so I think I'm good.
A couple raps at your door, then I wait patiently for you to answer.
The chirp of my phone earns a look of annoyed impatience until I see who the text is from. Impatience quickly becomes a look of panic, then deliberate calm as I flip my hair back one more time. It's too late now to have put it up; after debating the merits of up and down, I had eventually settled on a natural look -- the sort that takes an hour to style just right. And it does look just right as it falls over the sweetheart-style neckline of my sundress -- a soft blue to match my eyes. The dress itself matches my hair -- simple enough to be a sundress but fitted to give it a more elegant design. I want to look good without letting him know I've spent the better part of two days deciding what to wear.
I slide into my shoes as he knocks, which leaves him standing on the other side for only a few seconds before I answer with a smile. "Hi." He looks nice, and I see that we match. Cute. The fact we match, that is. And him too -- really cute.
Oh, just brilliant, Summer, stand there and ogle...
With another flashed smile, I step forward to kiss his cheek, and I hope that makes up for my moment of idiocy.
That dress, Summer. It looks really nice on you. If you'd told me how long it took to pick out, I would have believed you. Good things take time. This was worth it. Well, for me it was.
The kiss was unexpected. I'm delighted, and while I don't exactly blush, I do grin a bit in a way that I can't quite stop. "Hi, Summer. You look, uhm, really nice." I swallow, then push onward, "Blue is a great color." Shit, I was going somewhere with that, but well, I didn't.
"I thought it would be fun to see some pirates today." I offer. I step back a half step, not sure if you're coming out, or if I should come in. "Are you, ah, ready?" There, that's neutral enough.
[OOC: As the date progresses, you get to decide if Zach does something Summer finds attractive. If he does, then you award a Bonus die. Once we get three, then I can make a roll. We can also push for more dice, if we're feeling like pushing it.]
His compliment makes me smile in turn -- that semi-shy, pleased smile a girl gives when politely accepting a compliment she was hoping to hear. "Thank you."
[OOC: Dice thing. Let's award a die!]
I am ready -- as ready as I can be, anyway -- so I nod slightly and step out onto the step. "Pirates?" An interesting choice. The word conjures up an image of the stickers I give out to some of the kids. I try to puzzle out what he might mean as I lock the door behind me, then drop my key back into my tiny purse.
I nod at your question, like it's the most normal thing in the world. "Yes. Pirates. Who doesn't love pirates?" I grin, happy that there's a tiny bit of mystery. I stand by as you lock up, then walk with you to the truck, opening your door. The inside smells like Armor All, which is good and bad. It smells clean, but then, it smells like I just cleaned it, which I did. I vacuumed and shined this baby all day.
I hop in and start driving us north, on US-17, which is a big, wide four lane running along the coast, giving us snatches and glimpses of the ocean among the buildings. I gesture to the radio, a factory model, nothing special, "As navigator, you have sole responsibility for the radio. What kind of music do you like?"
[OOC: Take a die!]
Opening up the door for me? That's a surprise -- if chivalry is dead, nobody let Zach know. I'm definitely okay with that, so I let him tuck me into his truck like a gentleman. I'm still curious about the pirates we're visiting, but he seems to be enjoying lording it over me. I do like surprises, but if he's going to give me the opening...
"Shouldn't the navigator know where we're going?" I pose the question lightly so that he knows I'm teasing, that I don't mind so much. As I ask, I lean forward to fiddle with the radio and set it to a somewhat neutral choice that blends some of the lighter modern rock (pop) with more classic rock. "Pretty much anything with a beat. Is this station okay?"
"That's cool." I say as we pass by a few of the garish beach shops with their huge displays and ugly touristy beach towels on display. Hooked on a Feelin' is playing. I like that song, and my head bobs a little.
I decide to reveal my cunning plan early, mostly because it's not the greatest of mysteries, "We're going to Pirates Voyage, the best place for pirates, of course!" I glance over at you, "I take it you've never been to Dolly Pardon's Medieval Times for pirattical adventures, then?" I can't help but glance at your knees, showing just slightly under the sundress. They're cute.
I mutely shake my head. No, I've never been to Dolly Parton's Medieval Times before. I have heard of it though... Funny how you miss out on all of the touristy stuff when you actually live somewhere.
But I'm trying to be a good sport, so I say, "If I'd known, I would have worn my pirate hat and my eyepatch." Pirates have eyepatches, right?
I look over at you for a moment, trying to imagine you with an eyepatch. Then I shake my head no, "The hat could work. But you can't hide those eyes, alright?" I offer a grin, hoping it wasn't too cheesy.
After a few more minutes of driving, we pass the Carolina Opry and I start looking for the sign. A right turn and we're in the lot, a big, wide spacious paved lot. The place is huge and rather busy. Of course, the restaurant is garishly nautical themed.
I try to rush around to open your door for you, but you didn't realize it and open it yourself. So I end up standing there looking a little silly. And that bit of movement really hurt my knee. Shit. I wince a little, "I need to grab my, ah. Well, my cane. I think I just did something pretty stupid, Summer." I'm able to stand, but walking for a little bit might be touchy.
Okay, sure, it was pretty cheesy, but he is trying to be suave...and he isn't completely failing.
[OOC: Take a die!]
I remember too late that I'm out with someone who still opens doors for ladies, and I offer up a look of apology as I step out of the cab. I think about offering you my hand to help me down off the step to make up for it, but you're suddenly looking a little green.
Besides, I can manage a step down by myself, and I certainly do as I step out of your way with an expression of genuine concern, then hover uncertainly beside the door. "What's wrong?"
"A few years ago, I busted up my knee." I admit as I pull out the cane. It's nothing too fancy. My old teammates offered to get me a "pimp cane", but I felt like it was pretty silly. It's just a simple stick to help when my knee disagrees with me. I think about telling you it was playing hockey, a pretty important game, but then, if you don't know, then you aren't a hockey fan. That's not a problem, it just means it's not a big deal to you. Not that it should be a... oh skip it.
I put the cane on the ground and say, "This could be a ploy to get you to take my arm and walk in with me. Just warning you." I offer my left arm, and either way, I'll walk into the restaurant with you.
I accept the proffered arm automatically, even before it really sinks in that my date needs a cane. I feel bad for him, and there's a sort of deja vu feeling -- I feel a little like I'm back home escorting Grandpa into the house for dinner. There's a moment of silence as I remind myself that I'm an adult, my date isn't 80 years old, and that it really isn't important. Really.
I offer you a pretty smile -- I was prom queen, so a smile is the least I can manage -- and turn my attention back to the date. "So, why pirates?"
"It's all a clever ploy to reveal me wooden leg, me hearty!" I joke. Damn, you have a lovely smile, Summer. Lights up the room kind of smile. "I thought, well, who doesn't love pirates? I considered the amusement park, which is a guilty pleasure, but I didn't know if you liked that kind of stuff."
I have to say, it's really nice having you walk on my arm, Summer. Sure, a little old-fashioned, but it's a great excuse to touch each other. I give you a skeptical look, "Don't tell me you're a ninja fan... are you?"
I hope that means the cane isn't a sensitive subject. If it were me, I wouldn't want to talk about it. Ever. But you can joke, and that's good. Still, I think I'll avoid the subject altogether...just in case.
"No," I answer slowly. I'm not entirely sure what ninjas have to do with pirates. "But, I guess you're right. I did like the Pirates movies." That's it -- that's the sum of my pirate knowledge right there... "And, for the record, I guess I feel the same way about amusement parks as you do about pirates."
That didn't sound snobbish, did it?
"What kind of show is this?"
"Who didn't like the pirates movies? Johnny Depp's pretty awesome, so's Orlando Bloom." I mean, they're both kinda cool, no lie. I don't mention Keira Knightley, but she was really pretty in those movies, too.
As we head to the front door, I angle so I can open it for you, "It's pretty silly. Two pirate ships fight on a giant stage while we eat... piratical food." What is piratical? Is that a thing?
(Rolled: 3d6. Rolls: 4, 4, 1. Total: 9)
(Rolled: 1d6. Rolls: 3. Total: 3)
(Rolled: 3d6. Rolls: 1, 2, 4. Total: 7)
We can introduce a few mis-steps in order to get those re-rolls.
We enter the front room, which has a small line. I make some small talk, mostly asking questions like "Do you like baseball? Ever seen the local minor league team, the Pelicans?"
We get up to the front of the line in short order, and the waitress asks, "Do you need a handicap-accessible table, sir?"
My jaw tightens, and I pause for a moment, looking over at you nervously. I shake my head "no", "No, thanks." I don't want to embarrass you.
[OOC: That definitely earns a re-roll!]
I do like sports, and, yes, I've been to see the Pelicans once when my friend won free tickets through the local radio station. It was fun, something I wouldn't doing again.
Just as I'm beginning to relax, the waitress suggests a handicap table. I feel my face flush involuntarily, which makes me feel even worse.
"Another excuse to keep close, Zach?" I'm trying to make light of it as well as you have. I lean forward like it's a secret and add with a smile: "I think I'm beginning to see through your clever schemes."
(Rolled: 1d6. Rolls: 4. Total: 4)
I try to match your smile, which is impossible since your smile is simply the most wonderful thing in the room, "You've figured out my secret, Summer." I offer you my arm again and we head to our assigned table. The place is built like a giant rogeo more than a restaurant. All of the seats are facing the central arena, where two huge pirate ships are "in the water". There are men and women actors in costumes singing shanties and the place is well lit, filled with couples and families.
We take our seat in the "blue section". Both of us are in hightop chairs and our eating space is a the counter in front of us. We're facing the pirate ships, like everyone else, but it's easy enough to turn and talk with you, which I plan to do.
(Rolled: 3d6. Rolls: 2, 5, 4. Total: 11)