grifters | all these microscopic moments help me feel like i'm not helpless

[ let the record state that jed should have never, ever let amy anywhere near his personal effects, let alone into his space. bringing strays home, whether you realize they're stray or not, only breeds trouble. but when she knocks on his door hard enough to bruise her knuckles and disturb his neighbors, it's with the false assurance of a person who has some other place to go, which is the best way to get over any threshold. ]

I brought you this. [ it's a warm, damp paper bag inside transparent yellow plastic - some kind of chinese food, but she's not sure what's actually inside given that she'd just sauntered in and grabbed it off the counter while no one was watching - and she shoves it into his hands and then shoulders past him a little too hard, still kind of salty that she hadn't gotten the entirety of her way. can't win 'em all, or really any of them lately, but she's here and she'll have the pictures developed soon enough and then maybe the nightmare that is her life will quietly come to an end.

by her own standards his apartment is massive and it piques her interest almost immediately, but like a well-behaved house guest she foregoes immediately beginning to case the place and shoves her hands into the pockets of her jacket instead, pulling out two film canisters. the idea of letting them away from her person makes her deeply uncomfortable, but what other choice is there? at least he knows what he's doing. it's hardly a balm, but she'll take relief where she can get it. ]

These are important to me. [ a lot of people died because of these pictures. ] Please, just...

[ just take the film before she loses her nerve. ]

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[ Amy's abrupt hesitation, at complete odds with how she basically shoved her way inside, makes Danny reconsider the retort he's had ready from the second she pounded on his door. His scowl, however, remains as he stares at her. Why am I doing this runs through his head again, not for the first time—and the answer follows just as predictably. He exhales sharply, shifting her—gift? peace offering? bribe?—to one hand before reaching out to take the film canisters with the other. ]

Well, hello to you too.

[ he walks into the kitchen and deposits the bag on a counter. The bright rumpled plastic sticks out vividly against its surroundings: monotone, clean, neat. Nothing's new, but everything from has its place. The living area around Amy isn't much different. A secondhand sofa, a TV with a crooked rabbit ears antenna, a worn bookshelf half-full of nonfiction books found on old bestseller lists. A dozen or so framed photographs—artistically composed portraits with a few nature and city landscapes—hang on the wall directly across from the door, saving the space from a total lack of personality.

Danny puts the film canisters down then takes a moment to wash his hands in the sink, glancing back at Amy only when he's finished drying them. ]

So what am I working with here? If I can't know what's on it, you could at least tell me what kind of film this is.

[ it's no surprise that jed's apartment looks like this, given the state of his car that time he'd given her a ride - it'd been neat, too, nothing out of place. still, it's hard to digest the idea that there really are people who actually live like this, mostly because it doesn't actually look like he lives here at all. amy feels like a mess just occupying the space and she hasn't even touched anything yet. maybe the living room is just a facade, and his bedroom's a catch-all for all his stuff, and for his actual living. the odds that she ends up finding out? 99%. despite the fact that he's extended some brief hospitality by having her over for this, instead of making her wait outside (which he really should have done), amy totally plans on rifling through his stuff. she has a greyhound ticket out of this city to fund, after all.

she squints her eyes at his greeting, realizing that she hadn't actually said hi, and that being nice is probably in her best interests ... but the food should speak for itself. ]

It's Ektar 100. [ she nearly adds, 'it's nice, don't mess it up' just to try and irritate him, but bites it back at the last second. just because jed is infuriatingly curt about everything doesn't mean he isn't ultimately really helping her out, and she figures she should save the lip for someone who actually deserves it. seriously, it's beyond amy why he's put up with her this long, but ultimately she's grateful. being on her own is terrible. she has no idea what she's doing.

dumping her backpack by the couch, amy flops down and kicks her shoes off and somewhat out of the way, before eyeing him down.

brightly, ]

So, did you pick out a movie for us to watch?

[ Danny has to work to suppress a grimace at the thumps of Amy throwing her things down and herself onto the sofa. He invited her in, and it still manages to feel like an intrusion.

Sure, he could've made her wait outside. Especially since Amy apparently has a real problem with sitting still when the opportunity to poke her nose into someone else's business presents itself. But having her mostly under his eye is better than risking her giving his neighbors god knows what impression of herself—and him, by association. He isn't very closely acquainted with any of them, but he doesn't need to be. They don't need to know him as anything more than the typical office worker who occasionally comes home late.

Thinking back on how she knocked on the door hard enough to rattle the frame itself, bringing her inside was definitely the right call.

At her question, he looks up with a tight smile. Pocketing the film canisters, he strolls over to the couch. ]

Do you like horror movies?

[ his tone doesn't quite match hers, but it's still more chipper than she's probably ever heard from him. ]

[ chipper is weird on him, which is evident by how amy's eyes narrow the slightest bit as he approaches. as it turns out, no, she doesn't like horror movies very much, and she hadn't pegged him for the type, either. beyond the fact that jed looks like he can't possibly have any interests at all, if she really had to guess at what kind of movies he enjoyed, it'd have to be something heinously pretentious. indie art house films, the kind no one's ever heard of and only pretend to understand. ]

Not really, no. [ she throws an arm over the back of the couch and crosses a leg over her knee, where it stays still for all of five seconds before she's jostling it with nervous energy. ] Not a big fan of blood.

[ but, like, beggars can't be choosers. ] Lemme guess. [ she squints her eyes, like she's considering him. ] Psycho. You could be Norman Bates.

[ nevermind that amy hasn't actually seen the movie. amy shrugs a shoulder. ]

I don't really care what you put on.

[ Amy's comparison actually gets Danny to laugh, a genuinely amused sound with only a hint of disbelief. ]

I actually have a very good and non-delusional relationship with my mother, thanks. [ he says, walking past the couch to the TV and the stand it rests on. Even though there isn't one picture of his mother—or parents—anywhere in the apartment or among his possessions. ] But sure—Psycho it is.

[ crouching, he pulls open the single drawer set into the TV stand below the shelf holding a somewhat scuffed VCR. It takes him just a second to pick out the distinctive red-and-black case containing the movie, which he waves at Amy before removing the tape. ]

You know, they used chocolate syrup for the blood in that scene. [ the VCR swallows the tape with a faint rattle as he slots it in. ] But we can still fast-forward past it if you want.

[ he hadn't considered her the squeamish type, something which comes through clear in his tone. ]

all these microscopic moments help me feel like i'm not helpless

no subject

https://youtu.be/awDDvkCiL1c first 23 seconds very relevant

god that's perfect

UMMMMM i have no excuse for this i am sorry

np! :)