Movie Night VII: The Spinoff

[unrecovered]

Who| Wash and anyone who cares to join
What| Movie Night!
Where| The usual lounge
When| After Resistance Is Futile/An Eye For an Eye and the subsequent food fight
Warnings/Notes| None?

There's something to be said for a return to normality, though they're not really there yet. The food fight was a good way to decompress; now it's time to trot out the usual tradition of snacks and old cinema.

Chairs are arranged, blankets laid out, and the usual line of tables is piled high with standard movie snacks and drinks, though they're far less carefully arranged than usual. There are blank tables next to the spread, for those who wish to bring snacks to share. The usual poster is outside the door, with a summary of the movie, its MPAA rating, and the customary Movie night is neutral territory note. New this time is a handwritten note next to the summary that reads It's parody. It's supposed to be weird.

The movie tonight is Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

Comments

[agnominal]

"Less stressful."

Less to worry about than shooting at their friends or zombie hordes, or nightmares of dead partners, or any number of things they'd already encountered. A struggle without being any real hardship.

"Hn. Better, perhaps."

[goddamngrenades]

"Chico, bonito, Lobo-" The last one, now, that fits. He rolls it around in his head for a moment before peering up at Locus, brows lifted.

"Mi Lobo." His Locus. His wolf.

[agnominal]

That one? Gets him to suddenly look askance across the room, in a gesture that ought to be very familiar to York by now. Clearing his throat, he shifts against the couch before shrugging his shoulders.

"If that pleases you."

He still has nothing for him, but pet names aren't something he thinks he'll be any good with any time soon.

[goddamngrenades]

Now that- that has him smiling faintly, enough to nudge Locus and murmur (quietly so no one else has to hear it) "I think it does, Mi Lobo."

There will never not be something stupidly precious about big ol hardass Locus not quite blushing. Ever.