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xp_logsDoug and Wade decide that hiding from the girls is the better part of valor - and that, while they have no idea how they got six packs, they're not gonna let that bother them. Not when video games from 2012 await them.
Wade was sitting on the floor in Doug's living room on what amounted to a pallet made of blankets because sharing a room with a girl just - it just... wasn't on his agenda, okay? And if he turned beet red at the memory of waking up with Marie-Ange, well. That was nobody's business but his own. Opening the wallet that was apparently his, he poked at the driver's license, the gun permit, the credit cards - he had credit cards, what was that even about? There were a couple receipts - who spent over $100 on one meal for two people? - and apparently something from a bank telling him how much money he had in his account - how did he even have that much money?
It was weird and he still wasn't sure he believed it. Except that every now and then he'd catch his reflection in a mirror or a piece of glass and well. It was really difficult not to believe when he obviously didn't look 16 anymore. But he was. Or at least he had been. And it was now 2011? Putting the wallet down, Wade rubbed at his forehead with the palm of one hand. He was - but he couldn't be 51. 51 was old. 51 was like - it was like nearly dead. Or something. His dad wasn't even 51.
Doug was secretly glad that Wade had taken his offer to stay over. It was weird, the idea of having a whole apartment to himself. He was used to having a roommate. And with Jamie's power being what it was, he was used to at least one Jamie being around most of the day. Without that, the several hundred square feet felt rather large and intimidating.
And he certainly couldn't even approach thinking about the idea of having a girl stay the night. It just gave him huge butterflies in his stomach, despite having woken up next to Jubilee. Clearly a lot had changed with him in 7 years or so. The files he'd broken into...his -own- files...showed that rather clearly.
And those were a whole other pile of 'don't want to think about'.
"Thanks for letting me stay over here," Wade said, glancing over at Doug. "Things are weird enough without having to worry about... you know." He waved his hand in the general direction of where the girls were. "I hope we don't hate each other when things go back to normal. That'd... be really uncool."
"Oh, I totally get the 'you know'," Doug agreed. Marie-Ange thought that she and Doug were dating, and it wasn't that Doug didn't want to be dating the Frenchwoman, but the fact that they'd both woken up in bed with people that weren't each other kind of logically suggested they weren't. Marie-Ange had been crushed. She'd even cried on Doug. Which had made him feel like sixteen different kinds of jerk.
"Yeah, I hope so too," he said in reply to the rest of what Wade had said. "But I think that since we all work together, I kind of doubt anyone really hates anyone else?" The questioning note suggested Doug wasn't entirely sure about that, because Remy (and when had Remy gotten so old?) kind of came off as abrasive and brusque, with an air of "you frustrate me".
"How about we make a...pact!" Doug suggested. "To not hate each other." Because he couldn't really cope with the idea of being hated.
"A pact, eh?" Wade said, quirking a small smile. He couldn't help feeling like he was stuck in a dream or something, but a pact to not hate somebody seemed like a good idea. Especially since he was going to be sleeping in the same room as that person and not trusting someone made Wade twitchy. He slept with his door locked at home, just in case his dad woke up from a drunken stupor and decided he needed a punching bag that could dodge. Holding his hand out, he offered it to Doug. "I think that's a good idea."
"Awesome." Doug took the hand and shook it firmly. The two sixteen-year-olds in more adult bodies grinned at each other, a bit of relief in both their body language. "So, what do you want to do?" Doug asked, then his eyes widened. "Holy crap, the Atari 2600 was only just coming out in 1976. You have -got- to see this." He got off the couch and ran over to the entertainment center where his (absurdly large, how had he afforded this?) television and several game consoles that he only recognized as such because they had controllers attached to them.
"I heard about those," Wade said, shifting a little on his pallet so he could watch what Doug was doing. Moving reminded him that he wasn't sore anymore - again - and he lifted the hem of his shirt to check his stomach. "Man - man... when did this happen? And how am I not like. Shriveled up or whatever?" He blinked, then turned his attention back to Doug. "I never got to play on one or anything. They were expensive. But man - I have a... a six pack. It is so weird."
"I know, right?" Doug replied, lifting his shirt and poking at his own abs. "We must be, like, total gym rats or something." Which was kind of weird to him. Not that he was completely anti-exercise or anything, but it just wasn't something he'd pictured doing to the point where he had some fairly defined muscles.
"So anyways," he said, turning back to the game consoles, "video games. Looks like I own a lot of them." Which was much less surprising than the sixpack abs. "I...may have done some research on them." He pushed the power buttons on the television and one of the consoles, and held up a pair of small plastic guitars. "There's a game called 'Guitar Hero'."
Wade blinked for a moment as the console's lights came on and then the television. "Okay," he said, nodding. This television was so much nicer than the one he and his dad had. Not that he ever really got to watch much on it, but still. This one was mind-blowing. "What am I supposed to do? How's a guitar going to save people?"
Doug watched the opening screens of the game, which did a remarkable job of telling a story in several brief graphics and no text or voiceover. "So...apparently our band's agent is actually the Devil," he observed as he slung the guitar controller strap over his shoulder. "I guess that answers that question?" he said with a grin.
"So we're... what? Going to try to defeat him?" Wade asked, putting the strap over his own head and tentatively touching the buttons. "With guitars?" He was willing to give it a shot, but he didn't expect to be very good.
"And the power of ROCK!" Doug exclaimed, throwing the horns. In private with one other kind of quiet person, he was clearly a bit more animated and comfortable than he had been in the larger group setting, or with any of the more...assertive personalities among them.
"Righteous," Wade said, nodding along. There was a tutorial that came up as an option, which was pretty convenient, since he'd never even played a real guitar before, let alone a fake one.
The pair made their way through the tutorial, and then were able to select their difficulty - both young men immediately picked 'easy', having no experience with the game, and then were presented with an entire list of songs that they could choose from. "They've got all sorts of stuff in here," Doug observed as they scrolled through. "Even some stuff you'll probably recognize," as some extremely classic rock anthems were on the list.
"Hey, Blue Oyster Cult," Wade said, gesturing at the screen. "And Thin Lizzy - this is pretty rad. We're gonna like... play these songs and defeat evil? Awesome."
"And ZZ Top." And a bunch of stuff Doug recognized from the 90s, but he figured it would be more fun for Wade if they played something he knew. So he let the other man pick the tune, and then the next three minutes was a bit quiet in terms of conversation as they both focused rather intently on the little colored dots coming down from the top of the screen, and the music coming from the speakers.
"That wasn't so bad," Wade said after the song had ended. He grinned. It'd actually been pretty fun. "You pick the next song, dude."
"Hm." Doug flipped through the menu. "Can't go wrong with Queen, I suppose..."
---
Guitar Hero occupied something like an hour and a half before Doug or Wade even thought to look at a clock. "That was very 'not so bad'," he observed, flopping on the couch after turning off the console and storing the plastic guitars. "Hm. What should we do now?" he pondered.
"I don't know," Wade said, wiggling his fingers a little bit to work out the kinks he'd developed from holding his little guitar for so long. "Um... we could find another game to play or something? That was pretty awesome."
"Works for me," Doug replied. "We should...probably get something to eat, too. You wanna order pizza?" When he'd been going through all of his belongings, Doug had found several credit cards in his wallet. One of which looked like the sort that, if you showed it at a super swanky hotel, the bellhop would say 'right away, Mr. Ramsey!' He wandered toward the kitchen to see if he could find the yellow pages or something, while indicating Wade should pick their next game. He was in there for a few minutes, then came out with a handful of brightly colored menus. "I think I must have a menu from like every delivery place -ever-," he said wonderingly. "Uh, what do you feel like having?"
"Uh..." Wade looked up from the multitude of games he'd been perusing and sat down his choice - James Bond was a classic, after all. And he wasn't sure what 'multiplayer' would really mean within the context of the game, but that was alright. He was sure they could figure it out. Making grabby hands at the menu, he waited till he got a hold of them, then started flipping through. "Thai, Mexican, Chinese, Indian, Japanese, Swedish, pizza, pizza, pizza - I think I want some meatballs. Lots of meatballs. And some cheesy garlic bread. And maybe some tacos. Because tacos are delicious." He nodded as though this was knowledge all men should have. "Also, I have a little plastic card that will get me almost anything I want, apparently. I can pay for half."
"Dude, I have one of those, too. Uh, rock-paper-scissors for it?"
Wade was sitting on the floor in Doug's living room on what amounted to a pallet made of blankets because sharing a room with a girl just - it just... wasn't on his agenda, okay? And if he turned beet red at the memory of waking up with Marie-Ange, well. That was nobody's business but his own. Opening the wallet that was apparently his, he poked at the driver's license, the gun permit, the credit cards - he had credit cards, what was that even about? There were a couple receipts - who spent over $100 on one meal for two people? - and apparently something from a bank telling him how much money he had in his account - how did he even have that much money?
It was weird and he still wasn't sure he believed it. Except that every now and then he'd catch his reflection in a mirror or a piece of glass and well. It was really difficult not to believe when he obviously didn't look 16 anymore. But he was. Or at least he had been. And it was now 2011? Putting the wallet down, Wade rubbed at his forehead with the palm of one hand. He was - but he couldn't be 51. 51 was old. 51 was like - it was like nearly dead. Or something. His dad wasn't even 51.
Doug was secretly glad that Wade had taken his offer to stay over. It was weird, the idea of having a whole apartment to himself. He was used to having a roommate. And with Jamie's power being what it was, he was used to at least one Jamie being around most of the day. Without that, the several hundred square feet felt rather large and intimidating.
And he certainly couldn't even approach thinking about the idea of having a girl stay the night. It just gave him huge butterflies in his stomach, despite having woken up next to Jubilee. Clearly a lot had changed with him in 7 years or so. The files he'd broken into...his -own- files...showed that rather clearly.
And those were a whole other pile of 'don't want to think about'.
"Thanks for letting me stay over here," Wade said, glancing over at Doug. "Things are weird enough without having to worry about... you know." He waved his hand in the general direction of where the girls were. "I hope we don't hate each other when things go back to normal. That'd... be really uncool."
"Oh, I totally get the 'you know'," Doug agreed. Marie-Ange thought that she and Doug were dating, and it wasn't that Doug didn't want to be dating the Frenchwoman, but the fact that they'd both woken up in bed with people that weren't each other kind of logically suggested they weren't. Marie-Ange had been crushed. She'd even cried on Doug. Which had made him feel like sixteen different kinds of jerk.
"Yeah, I hope so too," he said in reply to the rest of what Wade had said. "But I think that since we all work together, I kind of doubt anyone really hates anyone else?" The questioning note suggested Doug wasn't entirely sure about that, because Remy (and when had Remy gotten so old?) kind of came off as abrasive and brusque, with an air of "you frustrate me".
"How about we make a...pact!" Doug suggested. "To not hate each other." Because he couldn't really cope with the idea of being hated.
"A pact, eh?" Wade said, quirking a small smile. He couldn't help feeling like he was stuck in a dream or something, but a pact to not hate somebody seemed like a good idea. Especially since he was going to be sleeping in the same room as that person and not trusting someone made Wade twitchy. He slept with his door locked at home, just in case his dad woke up from a drunken stupor and decided he needed a punching bag that could dodge. Holding his hand out, he offered it to Doug. "I think that's a good idea."
"Awesome." Doug took the hand and shook it firmly. The two sixteen-year-olds in more adult bodies grinned at each other, a bit of relief in both their body language. "So, what do you want to do?" Doug asked, then his eyes widened. "Holy crap, the Atari 2600 was only just coming out in 1976. You have -got- to see this." He got off the couch and ran over to the entertainment center where his (absurdly large, how had he afforded this?) television and several game consoles that he only recognized as such because they had controllers attached to them.
"I heard about those," Wade said, shifting a little on his pallet so he could watch what Doug was doing. Moving reminded him that he wasn't sore anymore - again - and he lifted the hem of his shirt to check his stomach. "Man - man... when did this happen? And how am I not like. Shriveled up or whatever?" He blinked, then turned his attention back to Doug. "I never got to play on one or anything. They were expensive. But man - I have a... a six pack. It is so weird."
"I know, right?" Doug replied, lifting his shirt and poking at his own abs. "We must be, like, total gym rats or something." Which was kind of weird to him. Not that he was completely anti-exercise or anything, but it just wasn't something he'd pictured doing to the point where he had some fairly defined muscles.
"So anyways," he said, turning back to the game consoles, "video games. Looks like I own a lot of them." Which was much less surprising than the sixpack abs. "I...may have done some research on them." He pushed the power buttons on the television and one of the consoles, and held up a pair of small plastic guitars. "There's a game called 'Guitar Hero'."
Wade blinked for a moment as the console's lights came on and then the television. "Okay," he said, nodding. This television was so much nicer than the one he and his dad had. Not that he ever really got to watch much on it, but still. This one was mind-blowing. "What am I supposed to do? How's a guitar going to save people?"
Doug watched the opening screens of the game, which did a remarkable job of telling a story in several brief graphics and no text or voiceover. "So...apparently our band's agent is actually the Devil," he observed as he slung the guitar controller strap over his shoulder. "I guess that answers that question?" he said with a grin.
"So we're... what? Going to try to defeat him?" Wade asked, putting the strap over his own head and tentatively touching the buttons. "With guitars?" He was willing to give it a shot, but he didn't expect to be very good.
"And the power of ROCK!" Doug exclaimed, throwing the horns. In private with one other kind of quiet person, he was clearly a bit more animated and comfortable than he had been in the larger group setting, or with any of the more...assertive personalities among them.
"Righteous," Wade said, nodding along. There was a tutorial that came up as an option, which was pretty convenient, since he'd never even played a real guitar before, let alone a fake one.
The pair made their way through the tutorial, and then were able to select their difficulty - both young men immediately picked 'easy', having no experience with the game, and then were presented with an entire list of songs that they could choose from. "They've got all sorts of stuff in here," Doug observed as they scrolled through. "Even some stuff you'll probably recognize," as some extremely classic rock anthems were on the list.
"Hey, Blue Oyster Cult," Wade said, gesturing at the screen. "And Thin Lizzy - this is pretty rad. We're gonna like... play these songs and defeat evil? Awesome."
"And ZZ Top." And a bunch of stuff Doug recognized from the 90s, but he figured it would be more fun for Wade if they played something he knew. So he let the other man pick the tune, and then the next three minutes was a bit quiet in terms of conversation as they both focused rather intently on the little colored dots coming down from the top of the screen, and the music coming from the speakers.
"That wasn't so bad," Wade said after the song had ended. He grinned. It'd actually been pretty fun. "You pick the next song, dude."
"Hm." Doug flipped through the menu. "Can't go wrong with Queen, I suppose..."
---
Guitar Hero occupied something like an hour and a half before Doug or Wade even thought to look at a clock. "That was very 'not so bad'," he observed, flopping on the couch after turning off the console and storing the plastic guitars. "Hm. What should we do now?" he pondered.
"I don't know," Wade said, wiggling his fingers a little bit to work out the kinks he'd developed from holding his little guitar for so long. "Um... we could find another game to play or something? That was pretty awesome."
"Works for me," Doug replied. "We should...probably get something to eat, too. You wanna order pizza?" When he'd been going through all of his belongings, Doug had found several credit cards in his wallet. One of which looked like the sort that, if you showed it at a super swanky hotel, the bellhop would say 'right away, Mr. Ramsey!' He wandered toward the kitchen to see if he could find the yellow pages or something, while indicating Wade should pick their next game. He was in there for a few minutes, then came out with a handful of brightly colored menus. "I think I must have a menu from like every delivery place -ever-," he said wonderingly. "Uh, what do you feel like having?"
"Uh..." Wade looked up from the multitude of games he'd been perusing and sat down his choice - James Bond was a classic, after all. And he wasn't sure what 'multiplayer' would really mean within the context of the game, but that was alright. He was sure they could figure it out. Making grabby hands at the menu, he waited till he got a hold of them, then started flipping through. "Thai, Mexican, Chinese, Indian, Japanese, Swedish, pizza, pizza, pizza - I think I want some meatballs. Lots of meatballs. And some cheesy garlic bread. And maybe some tacos. Because tacos are delicious." He nodded as though this was knowledge all men should have. "Also, I have a little plastic card that will get me almost anything I want, apparently. I can pay for half."
"Dude, I have one of those, too. Uh, rock-paper-scissors for it?"
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