IMPORTANT SRS STUFF(tm)

Rock'n'Bowl - Lanes


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ricon_me.jpg ricon_corey.jpg

There is something really, superly, AWESOMELY cool about the bowling alley on a Friday night. It's this wicked little thing they to call "Rock and Glow Bowling"! It means that the lanes are like, superly totally dark. Lit up by only black lights. 80's music BLARES through the speakers. The pins are special ones that glow different colors under the black light.
It's the absolute perfectest place for an 80's pop-punk vamp-girl to hangout.
Ronnie has scared some people away from a lane by telling them they smelled like swamp. The clerk at the desk wouldn't give her shoes, so she's attempting to bowl on her roller skates. All while singing a Pat Benatar song (which is NOT what the speakers are blaring).
"We are strong! No one can tell us we're wrong! Searching our hearts for so looooong!" There's a beat while she falls on her behind thanks to the slippery lane. "Oof! Both of knowing…. Love is a battlefield!"

~

Corey Coleman is NOT a bowler. In fact, he hates bowling. He leaves that to his brother. All of which begs the question: What the hell is he doing in the bowling lanes now?
"Seriously," he says, walking in with a big brute of a fellow at his side — an older guy about twice Corey's age… and twice his weight. "I hate bowling. Always have. You want someone who can bowl? I'll introduce you to Brett!"
The man at his side laughs. "You lost the bet, Coleman," he says. "Ten frames. Ten frames or you get labeled a welcher and forfeit the whole thing." (Apparently the older guy's a transplant from the North.)
"Alright. Alright!" Corey holds up his hands in submission. Laughing. "Let no one say a Coleman ever 'welched' on a bet." The word doesn't sit comfortably in his Southern accent, but it works, nonetheless.
As they head down toward a lane, however, the singing catches his ears. He blinks. He knows that voice. He looks at his friend. He looks about the room and spies the rollerskater at the next lane.
"Oh, my god…"

~

Welch means only one thing to the fallen vampire.
Grape juice.
Which begs the question… where IS it!?
"Man! I so have totally like, not had grape juice in like, seventeen years!" With an eerily graceful flip, she's back on her skates. Perfect balance.
"Oh my god! It's like… you!" Little hearts would be literally floating and swimming above her head. Doing backflips. Maybe the mambo. "Corey of my heart! How've you been, dude?" Flipping a strand of hair behind her ear in the coolest 80's come-hither type way she smiles.
"So.. uhh… like where's the grape juice? Not that I can drink it, but Welch's is like, the total best! Nobody elch's tastes better than Welch's!"

~

Aw, crap…
Corey isn't quite sure how he should react — particularly given how things stood when they parted last time.
Then, she's all over him, asking about… Welch's?
"Corey of my heart?" That would be from the big fellow next to him. "Geez, Coleman. Don't tell me yer a fangbanger?"
"What?" Corey's now torn. He looks between Ronnie and the big guy. "Aw, now, don't be like that, Frankie. This is Ronnie. She's a friend, that's all." He can't even begin to explain it all.
"Yeah, I ain't stayin' here…" Frankie says. He pokes Corey in the chest, however. "But, you still owe me ten frames. Don't forget." With that, the fellow turns to leave.
Corey frowns. But, then looks back at Ronnie. "Welch's grapejuice? You want that? Probaby none here. Maybe at the supermarket, though…"

~

"Frankie?" Ronnie's eyes perk up and she glances around, expecting to see her most bodacious puppy-doggie running around. It takes her addled brain a bit to realize Frankie is the big guy. "You're not a doggie," she says to the man as he starts to leave.
"He's not grape juice either, and it's totally not like that. He's got a girlfriend or something stupid, even though I'm obviously the better choice!" A frighteningly scary tooth-ping of a smile is offered to the man before he bolts.
"Huh? No, I like, can't drink grape juice. Well maybe if it was made of blood, but I don't think that works. Though it'd be TOTALLY awesome if they made that synthetic stuff flavored so it doesn't taste so beige." Wrinkling her nose up, she grabs Corey's arm.
"Dude! I totally saw my puppy-doggie in the park the other night. She helped me chase bunnies, but then there were sirens, and she ran off. Silly puppy-doggie. I would've like totally given her an awesome puppy bed."

~

Corey blinks a little as the vampire… well, does what she usually does. Crazy with a dash of loopy. "Frankie?" he repeats. A beat. He grins. "Right… that dog from the mall, right?" Since everything seems cool between them now, he relaxes. Not much else he can do. "He helped you chase bunnies?" He snickers, now. "Did he catch anything? Or did the cops show up too quick?"
Now, if this isn't something to take back to his bro, he doesn't know what is. Stuff like this is what makes hanging out with Ronnie so much darn fun.
"You know, you could write to the guys that make the synthetic stuff and ask 'em to change the flavor."
Not that they'd listen, mind.

~

"Frankie-George! She didn't like the pink collar, so I like, got a spikey one. She still didn't like it, but dude can that puppy-doggie catch bunnies! She was stunnin'em and everything!" Ronnie gives the man of her dreams (do vampires dream?) a look. Obviously he like, totally didn't hear her. Frankie-George is a girl in Ronnie-verse.
"Two! He caught two! One was a chocolate bunny! It was very yummy. Stupid evil thing… but it tasted good!"
Corey's thought has merit. It really does. "I'd have to like, get permission from Wil Wheaton. I mean, like, he might get angry if I started writing letters at people. Maybe the could make a bunny flavored synthetic! That'd totally rock!"
For the suggestion? Poor Corey Coleman gets glommed on by the crazy-vamp.

~

Corey oofs a little as Ronnie gloms him. "Wil, huh? Well, maybe it's not that great an idea. I mean, why go to all the hassle." A beat, and he smiles. "And, hey, you'd miss chasing bunnies. And think of what that'd do to their population. They'd turn up all over the place. Then you'd need, what? Two dogs? Maybe a pack to help you catch 'em."
Y'know, that was probably a worse idea to give her, wasn't it?

~

But it really isn't a bad idea. Maybe more vampires would like the stuff if it didn't taste so beige!
Ronnie gets up a second later, letting the poor Shifter get away from her. She doesn't need to be all over him in public, eesh!
"I dooooo like chasin' bunnies, but Wil Wheaton gets really mad when I make a scene. Like, he might be mad that I had Frankie-George help me. 'specially since like, I have no Frankie-George to show for it." Concerned as she is, she doesn't sound upset at all. Especially since…
"Two puppy-doggies?!? I could totally do that. I wonder if I can find another Frankie-George to take with me. She's a good doggie… I think maybe I'd have trouble finding another puppy-doggie that won't run away." Nevermind that Frankie-George ran off.
The song has changed a few times now. It's playing something a little less upbeat. To give people time to run and fill up drinks. Ronnie, who needs no beverage or sustenance to keep her going grabs for Corey's hand. "Dude! I like totally have something way serious to discuss with you! C'mon'n Dance!" With a CAPITAL D.

~

'C'mon'n… what?
Core finds himself pulled towards what might possibly pass as a dancefloor in this place. "Huh? Whoa!" It's not so much a call to stop as it is to keep his footing. But, he's fairly nimble, so he doesn't end up on his ass as she tugs him along.
Instead, he laughs. What else is there to do where Ronnie is concerned? "Something serious to ask? Aw, c'mon. Dancing isn't that serious."
He chuckles, however, willing enough to dance with her… as long as she doesn't skate over his toes.

~

"Noooo~!! Not the dancing!" It's far from a slow song, just a bit lower tempo than most 80's pop. Ronnie skates around him being very careful not to run him over. "Strut your stuff babe-o-rama! Show this place what'cha got!"
Twirl-spina-twirl! One leg back and up as she glides on the skates. "Dude, you still hafta like, totally come skating with me sometime!"
Still not the question, which comes out as…
"I like, totally have this proposal! But uhm… y'might not like it, but it's totally nothing bad. I swear. Punk's honor!"

~

Punk's honor?
"Wow," Corey says, not changing his dancing any, no matter how much she twirls. He can hold his own on the dance floor, but no one will ever call him Fred Astaire. "Must be serious…"
He's a might concerned about what she might ask, but he's learning just to go with the flow. Easier that way.
Not necessarily safer, mind, but easier.
"What is it, Ronnie?"

~

"Okay, so like, I'm totally good, right? But there's like, some people who are totally not good who might wanna eat you." Ronnie knows she's told both Coleman's they taste like swamp, so they're generally safe from her.
"Okay, so like these bad people actually like…" She twirls close enough to him to grab him by the shoulders and lean in to whisper, "Non-humans."
"They like, taste better and stuff. But I can protect you maybe…" She lets go and twirls around to face him. This is serious enough for her to stop and look him in the eyes. "… well if you wanted me to."

~

Wanted her to?
Corey blinks a moment and stops moving… especially as she looks directly into his eyes. She doesn't usually do that.
But, by doing that, he can see she's in earnest. He's just not quite sure what she means, exactly.
And with a vampire, he's told, it pays to be exact.
"How would you protect me?" he asks now, speaking softly. "What people are these?"

~

"Mean old nasty vampires!"
That's said maybe an octave too loud. Like she's actually scared of someone hurting him. For reals.
"Well we have this like, thing. It's umm… well you tell people you uhh…" Ronnie rubs the back of her neck and makes a faux cough-cough noise as she keeps her eyes on him.
"Thatyoutotallybelongtome… and then they'll not try to make you nomnoms like I do with the evil demon bunnies."

~

That leaves Corey flummoxed. He thought he was out of his depth with her before. Now he knows he is.
And, it occurs to him he just might be in an all-the-more dangerous position because of it.
"I can't tell people I belong to you, Ronnie," he says now, brows creasing with consternation and concern. "I mean… that doesn't make sense. I don't. And I don't see how that protects me."
Boy really doesn't know all that much about vampires.
"I mean, I know you like me, and I like you, too. But…"
A sigh.
"I don't get this."

~

If the vampy punk princess could sigh, she like totally would.
Instead, she holds out her hand. To take his. And drag him quite literally over to the lane so they can sit down.
See how serious this is?
"Okay, so like, in vamp whatevers, there's this thingy. And the thingy says that if you say you're like owned by a vampire, they like totally can't make you all nomnoms and dead."
She waits a beat.
Two.
At the third beat she says, "Otherwise, you're like totally fair game to any big ol' meanie-head that wants to make you dinner. I like, like you, Corey Hart. You're like totally one'a the coolest guys I know. I don't want you to be nomnoms for anyone!"

~

Corey tries not to stumble as she drags him over to sit down. When he sits opposite her, however, he treats her with the seriousness and sincerity she deserves. He knows she's being earnest with him. And, really, he does appreciate it. Too, his mother did raise him to treat girls with the proper respect, which means listening to what they have to say.
And being honest in return.
"Ronnie," he says, laying hands on her shoulders, "I know you do. And, God knows I don't wanna be anyone's snack."
He takes a slow breath, trying to sort everything out in his head. His hands fall away as he does. "Okay… let me get this straight: You're telling me that if I were to say I was owned by you to another vampire, they wouldn't be allowed to touch me, right? Does this just protect me? Or does it protect the other people I love, too?"

~

"Weeeeell, I can like, totally only protect one with my name alone, but I'd kick anyone's butt if they hurt Frankie-George."
Which may be her puppy-doggie, but she smells an awful lot like a Coleman to her. Silly non-humans and their silly abilities.
"I'm like, not a fighter, though I guess I totally got in a few bar brawls in my day." Which likely means if she tried to kill another vampire, she'd wind up as a pile of black goo somewhere but it's a risk she's willing to take.
"I'd like do my best. Cross my heart." Which she does. A little teensy X made over her chest.
"But that's totally it, right? If you like tell another vampire I own you, they can't touch you. They can't make you nomnoms. They can't do that weird Jedi-mind trick thingy, and they like can't hurt you or I can like ask for them to be made dead by Wil Wheaton."

~

Corey absorbs her words slowly. As it dawns on him that she might realize, somewhere in that addled head of hers, that her puppy is actually Brett, he has to smile. However, that smile is tinged with a bit of bittersweet. "But, you couldn't do the same for Frankie-George, right? Or my brother? Or the other people that are important to us…"
He gets that, now.
"I can't ask you to do that, Ronnie. And I can't let you do that for me when you can't do it for Brett, too. It's not fair that I'd be protected when he's not. He needs protecting more than I do. Always has."
From his point of view, it's true. Corey's the brawler; not Brett.

~

A nod is what he gets.
"S'truth. Only one. Otherwise it might make Wil Wheaton angry, then I'd like have to deal with the WAY angry guy and he'd pull my teeth out." When Ronnie speaks, her mouth opens just to flash fangs briefly before she puts them away. So he like, doesn't think it'd be all her teethies.
"You want me to offer it to your brother?" Blink. "I totally can if that'd make you happy, Corey!" Though she seems all happy and excitable like normal, there's a chance… maybe a really small chance… that she'd much rather stake (haw pun) her claim on him.

~

Corey laughs lightly, now. He's not laughing at her, by any means. But, the idea of Brett's reaction to it amuses him.
Nonetheless, even as he smiles, he shakes his head. "You can if you'd like, Ronnie. But, if I know Brett, he'll tell you the same thing I just did: He won't take protection, if I can't have it, too. We're both stupid and stubborn like that. So, I won't ask you to do that."
Partly because Brett doesn't need to know about this conversation.
"You, however, are definitely the coolest vampire I've ever met."
To be fair, she's also one of only two vampires he's ever met.
"I'm glad we're friends, anyway."

~

"You're silly, you know." Ronnie says that sternly, and without any of her usual levity.
This be's some srs bizness!
"One day, one'a the nasty vampires is gonna come and totally make you breakfast, or lunch, or —" Her nose wiggles back and forth, uncannily like that of a bunny twitch. Her way of saying she's getting hungry?
"Anyway, they'll totally come and eat you and you won't be able to keep yourself safe… and if you die, how's Mr. Corey's Brother gonna look after himself?"
She'll just have to try to keep the silly Coleman's from getting eaten without the claim.
For now.
"I just don't want my super-bestest friend to die!" Super-bestest besides Jannie.

~

"Tell you what," Corey says, putting his hand on Ronnie's shoulder again. "If I meet a vampire that I think is actually going to eat me, maybe I'll invoke your name, okay? We can deal with it if it comes to that. But, until then: I'll take my chances. I've gotten along this far without being eaten. And every vampire I have met, so far, tells me I'm not very appetizing. So… Maybe there's nothing to worry about, right?"
Okay, so he's only met two vampires — that he knows of — in his life. They both said the same thing, and one seemed a whole lot saner than the other. Even Brett's vampire contacts backed him up on that one.
"Besides… Think about it, Ronnie: How're they likely to attack me? Spring on me when I least expect it, right? So, I probably wouldn't have a chance to tell them I was your friend before they got me anyway, right?"
A beat.
"Unless there's something more to it."

~

The hand comes up to rub at the back of her neck again. Trying to recall what it is about the whole ownership thing that keeps someone safe or not.
"Oh oh! It's like… well they know. Some'a the meanies say that there's biting involved but it's not, it's like this whole… well thing!" She's trying to be clear, she really is. Ronnie wiggles her nose again, and sniffs.
"Okay, okay… say there's this vampire… I'll use Jannie. Say Jannie came up to you. She's talking. And she's all like trying to nomnoms you… which she might. If you're blue. I think she likes blue." That would likely confuse anyone but January.
"She thinks your blue tastes good, but then you can say like ohmigawd I'm totally Ronnie's and she'd have to back off or I can kill'er for touching my person."
She may not be explaining it really well.
"But not everyone doesn't like you guys. Some'a them like your type lots. Like a delicacy. Like bunny rabbits are for me."

~

Corey peers at Ronnie, trying to sort out one 'thing' from another. "So… what? She can smell you on me or something?" Coarse analogy, perhaps, but it's the best he's got. He's a shifter. He understands scents.
"Like… what 'thing'?" He totally just said 'like', didn't he?
Oh, gawd. He's slipping into the Ronnieverse.

~

"I'm totally like, not explaining this stuff well at all."
Bonking the side of her head with a fist like she's trying to clear it, Ronnie watches him.
"I don't think it's like scent. It's like… the rules. I tell Wil Wheaton that you're mine, and then other vampires will know and stuff." She probably needs a sane person to interpret for her. She'll have to find one'a them one'a these days.
"It's gotta be your decision though. I'm not gonna be hurt if you don't want it. Honest!" She gets up, rolling back and forth between the seats.
"Wanna just bowl? Seems a waste to not take advantage of the glowing pins and the totally kick ass music!"

~

Corey gathers at least a couple of things from what she says, however: Wil Wheaton, whoever he is, is more than just her keeper; he's got some clout among the vampires. The vampires have some way to disseminate 'ownership' information to each other, and it seems to be verbal or maybe legal. Human consent is necessary.
Nice to know. Doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but it's getting there.
"Yeah, sure, let's bowl," he says, absolutely willing to take advantage of the suggestion. It beats trying to make further heads or tails of all this.
And maybe it saves him from having to say 'no' directly, too.
Works for him.

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