Black Rabbit Barcade

-*.Ch 1.*-

Racing down the city streets and barreling towards the barcade entrance, an orange skinned 'human' burst through the doors. He sported a black suit with a light blue tie fixed neatly around his neck, all dressed up for the very first day of his new job at the Black Rabbit, which his purple skinned companion, Dave, owned. 

Said man looked over his shoulder, his hardened, fixed expression turning into that of a soft smile as he took notice to the tangerine's presence. 

"Oh shit, what up, old sport!" the lilac skinned man chimed, wrapping an arm around Jack, pulling him closer to him. "oh shit, what up, Dave!" the taller one of the duo replied, and moved just an inch away from Dave. He was far to close to his liking. Dave, however, did not take notice to Jack's obvious discomfort, and continued on. "Welcome to the Black Rabbit! the drunk arcade! here, we live off the finest of brewery and drugs! say, sportsy. What do ya say to a tour?" he grinned excitedly, practically jumping up and down in his spot. He thought for a moment, he didn't really want to hurt Dave's feelings by telling him no, after all, they were in this together. Playing along with the happy mood, old sport finally replied. "Sure, lead the way, chief!"

And so, the aubergine turned back to the newly polished pristine wood, clearing his throat before announcing what was before them. "This, is the bar, obviously. Drinks are completely free for employees, take as many as you'd like." mentioning this, the purple guy took the opportunity to show his point, and grabbed a drink. He poured himself a shot, before swiftly chugging it down in a matter of moments. "Would you like some, sportsy?" he asked politely, but, the tangerine kindly declined with a sheepish smile. Really, he was only here to stop Dave from whatever tomfoolery he might commit if he DID decide to get drunk. Somebody needs to keep this junkyard going, after all. Everyone knows Dave and alcoholic beverages do NOT mix well. 

However, the purple guy insisted, and nudged his friend with the bottle freshly plucked from the shelf. Unsure, Jack declined once more. "I-...Dave, you know I don't drink. Remember what happened last time?" pushing the bottle away, he referenced what had happened at the New years party, where Dave, once more had insisted that Jack should at least take a sip. The other seemed to remember too, as he retreated his hand back and gave his friend a rather disappointed look. "Come on, old sport! just one lil' sip? I need to know if it's poisoned or not!" he shoved the bottle into his hands and Jack, just realizing what had came out of his friends mouth, stared at him with a rather shocked expression. "What?"

"What?" Dave replied, seeming just as confused. "Fine, fine. But if I throw up it's your problem!" he barked, and pointed an accusing finger at the purple man. "You're the one who has to clean it." he slyly replied to his orange skinned employees comment, to which the other had not seemed very pleased, but resumed to pouring himself a shot. He counted down in his head, pinched his nose, and chugged it down as quick as he could, before immediately spitting the liquid out. "Gah!Jesus Christ what the fuck?!--" Jack couldn't even finish his sentence, as the same sour taste still took place in his mouth. Scrambling for the bar, he immediately took a drink of water, attempting to wash it down. All while Dave stared in bewilderment. "What's the matter, old sport?" he curiously asked, at his side in moments, patting his back. 

"How do you even drink that?! it's too strong!" gesturing wildly at the bottle clutched in Dave's arms, he made it clearly obvious what he was attempting to say. "I have a strong stomach." replied Dave, who neatly arranged the bottle back onto the shelf. Jack, however, wasn't impressed by this statement at all, he knew better. "Dave, you literally threw up at the New year's party, after directly stating yourself that you would be fine." then, it all went quiet, Dave froze in his spot as he was figured out. But, he continued on.  

"...Anyways! we have a wide selection of arcade machines, classics galore! hell, even Space Invaders is here!" he commented, and moved towards his friend, only to drop a few coins into his palm. "Go on, Old sport! play one of the machines." urging Jack to do so, Dave pushed him towards the circuitry lined up against each other, the screens buzzing with neon colors. It was almost as if they begged for him to play, calling out to him.. 

"Okay, but only one..." he added, completely unsure if this was a good idea or not, after all, this was Dave, it could be a death machine or something. Picking out a quarter from the pile, he placed it inside the slot. It clicked, and the start menu popped up, apparently the arcade machine itself was named Polybius, and apparently, Dave didn't want him playing it, as he grabbed him and moved him over to the next machine, which was Street Fighter. 

"That one...is out of limits for now, how about some good ol' Street Fighter, hm sportsy? I'll even play against you!" he added in a cheerful tone, but Jack still felt somewhat uneasy being around the machine itself. It was almost like something was watching him from far within, but he couldn't quite figure out what. It was probably nothing, just a harmless machine. But still, the feeling of something watching him wasn't very pleasant, so he politely declined once more. 

"No...thanks, Dave." he dismissively waved the man off, who only smiled, nodding as he had understood, or at least he pretended. "Ah, okay then. They'll be here if you do decide, though. Only two machines are off limits, Cabinet Man and Polybius. The rest are gucci." Dave pridefully remarked, and turned heel, continuing down the main hall. The tangerine looked over his shoulder at Polybius, something was very off..