Movie Night IV: Movie Harder

[unrecovered]

Who| Wash and anyone who wants to join
What| Movie night!
Where| The same lounge movie night is always in
When| A few days after Silent Horizon and No Sanity Clause
Warnings/Notes| They're watching Clue, because Tim Curry is the cure for everything.

It has been, to put none too fine a point on it, a shitty week. Everyone needs a place where they can relax and get their minds off what's happened; to that end, Wash figures it's about time for another movie night, and goes for a comedy this time. Sure, Clue is technically a murder mystery with a slow build, but he's pretty sure people will enjoy it as long as he's up front about it.

There's tables full of snacks and drinks set up, per usual. Extra blankets are piled on the arms and backs of chairs and sofas, because blankets make things better and therefore need to be available. There's a sign outside the door with the movie's title, MPAA rating, and a brief summary, along with a note at the bottom: Movie night is neutral territory. Might as well make it known up front.

Comments

[prettycoolguy]

The Chief, despite the level of rude going on here, holds the plate and cup then gives it back without incident, one eyebrow raised. Wow.

"Yes," he says flatly. ...It's kind of true.

He's not sure what to do with the fact she just climbed over him like that. Who does that?

[i_got_this]

South does that. Might want to get used to it.

She balances her soda on her knee while she nibbles on her snacks, only half watching the movie.
"Yeah? So everything here must seem kinda tiny, huh?"

[prettycoolguy]

"You adjust."

He is, by contrast to South, sitting politely on the furniture and trying not to crowd. The Chief's very aware that most furniture wasn't built for someone with his dimensions.

"...Who are you?" he asks. It's a completely graceful conversational segue. Anyone would be proud of it. Really.

[i_got_this]

Her knee or elbow or whathavyou is probaby touching you, because what is consideration of other people's personal space?

She chuckles, answering before she takes a drink, "Switch." balances the soda on her knee once more. "AKA South Dakota, from Project Freelancer, but they're all a bunch of pricks so we'll just forget that part."

[prettycoolguy]

The touch is part of what's put him on edge. While the Chief can tolerate touch, it's not like it's hurting him or anything, he's not used to it and doesn't like it.

"Not all of them," he says, tone diplomatic. Her codename isn't significant to him, Wash didn't give him any details or a name for South. He files it away to ask about later, perhaps.

[i_got_this]

"Eh, nah ... we're all assholes one way or another." She shakes a pretzel rod at him. "If you find someone who isn't, be wary; they're hiding something." And then takes a bite out of the pretzel.

"But I'm guessing you probably know like, some other PFA's." She waves the pretzel in a circular motion, asking for deets while simultaneously showering their blankets lightly with crumbs.

[prettycoolguy]

"I've met New York and Washington. Can't speak for the rest of you," the Chief says. And, well. She's kind of right. He's seen both Wash and York in not-exactly-their-best-lights before. But they're not people he's written off by a long shot.

He also knows that it was a traumatic or lethal experience for all of its agents, but he doesn't feel like it's his place to touch that with someone he met two seconds ago.

[i_got_this]

"Well, we're all assholes." She starts ticking off her fingers, "Wash is a doofy asshole, York is a chill asshole, Connie's a sweet asshole, I'm the badass asshole, you get the picture. Project Freelancer Assholes."

She settles into her blanket and actually watches the movie for a bit without comment, then glances back at her hapless couch mate. "So what about you, what kind of assholes do you know?"

[prettycoolguy]

That's... okay that's accurate, in a weird way. He's not sure he'd go with "doofy" over "high strung" for Wash, but it's not like he hasn't seen that in the guy at all.

"Mostly classified ones," he answers. He appreciates the kind of camaraderie South seems to have with the other Agents. It's not far off from what he had with the other Spartans, but that's too sacred for him to drag out here for someone who doesn't know who they are and has no reason to ever learn.

"And the Arbiter," he adds, after a moment's consideration. They weren't exactly friends, but the Arbiter called him Demon and they fought their way out of a Flood hive together once. This feels appropriate.