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

[grifters]

[ 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. ]

Comments

UMMMMM i have no excuse for this i am sorry

[grifters]

[ 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.

np! :)

[obsessions]

[ 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. ]