gooseberryhigh | HORROR MOVIE NIGHT

HORROR MOVIE NIGHT

Micah St. Clair organizes another movie night, this time watching a SCARY movie. Excitingly, he's just received a portable projector from home, so tonight's movie will be projected IN LARGE on a bedsheet that's been hung up in the Atrium. The couches have been rearranged in front of the makeshift screen. The lights have been switched off. Popcorn is served.

As the sophomores tensely watch the plot of Sinister unfold, Casper Kim walks up behind them to ask what they’re doing. The sophomores, caught off guard, scream loudly and several fall off the couches. Ariadne Flint throws a bowl of popcorn at Casper in self-defense.

WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN

Seniors and juniors are not technically banned from movie night, but they don't get a seat on the comfiest couches. Front row admission for Micah's best friends only!!!!

The lodge is sparsely populated by staff this Thursday evening, as the teachers are having a staff meeting.

For those who have not seen the movie, HERE is a trailer, and HERE is the Wikipedia plot summary.

For the record, Sinister is less gory than the plot summary sounds, and tends cut away from the violent parts and leave it up to the viewer's imagination. On the other hand, a horror movie involving a malevolent ghost-demon that steals children away is maybe... not great?

The movie is timed to end just before 9 PM, when the lodge closes down and everyone must walk back to camp. In the dark. Remember, buddy system!

» Before the movie: Meet up with your friends, share snacks, claim the best seats.

» watching the movie: Midway through, Casper terrifies forty innocent children.

» elsewhere in the lodge: Since there are so few teachers around, is there anything else you rascals are up to? Classrooms and club rooms are all still locked, though.

» After the movie: Time to clear out and go home! Are you going to sleep well tonight?

» OOC - Questions, comments, concerns!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"That's okay. I mean," his hand raises, gestures toward himself vaguely, before returning to its former position of tapping out an increasingly excited pattern against Lucas' ribs. "Not really much for subterfuge." Understatement like whoa. "But if all my portraits are of the same person, you think we're gonna have enough range to cover all the parts? Do they even want to sing?"

This is exactly why Bash is never going to finish a coherent Senior project. And he looks completely delighted by it. There's clear and visible effort going into keeping himself quiet.

"And you kinda got to wonder. In general. How long before portraits start making decisions for themselves? How much growth do you put in paint? Like - would a portrait be the same if it was hanging in the Pope's living room versus hanging in, like, Ted Bundy's living room?"

"I figure at least one of them has a quirk like, 'accidentally a baritone,' or 'trained soloist,' so..." Lucas lets the thought trail off, gaze dropping to Bash's hand. Carefully, hesitating, he twines the fingers of his free hand into Bash's own. To stop the tapping. Totally.

He feels a bit like he might pop if he stops talking, so Lucas goes on hurriedly. "Nature-nurture for sentient portraits," now that's an ethically questionable experiment. He tilts his chin up to stare thoughtfully at the dark ceiling. And also because he needs to take a deep breath. "Maybe one of them will learn to be a criminal mastermind? Then you could hand the criminal organization off to one of the portraits to run in your stead? Now you're starting to build an empire."

Oh. Hey. That's happening. Huh. It's probably really good that the room's all dim and there's probably something at least mildly intriguing going on with Ethan Hawke's murder house, because that sort of shudders its way all up his spine and everything goes sort of kettle-bubbling in between his ears.

"Gotta pick the right kind of criminal, then." he muses after slightly too long of a pause, fingers squeezing tight for a moment. "Cause I don't want to be responsible for any Ted Bundy-inspired portrait shenanigans. Not that - can portraits kill each other? I mean, they can go for walk arounds, can't they?"

"An artsy and non-violent one, for our purposes." Flustered and unable to help himself, Lucas laughs again. He has to tuck one of his legs under the other to keep them both from shaking. How on earth did you get here and how are you not messing this up? Is the refrain in his head. Lucas does an admirable job of ignoring it.

"Y'know, I'm not sure?" He runs his thumb over Bash's fingers as he considers the logistics of portrait homicide. "Maybe a living portrait serial killer is just really annoying. Murderin' Steve from down the hall ineffectively stabs everyone else whenever he drops by, so he doesn't get invited to poker night, anymore."

There's a moment where Bash attempts quite valiantly to be the sort of person with more maturity than his very-nearly-sixteen years on earth have granted him. But then his lips twitch and he needs to snag his hand back in order to better press the both of them over his mouth. (It helps. Ish.) His eyes crinkle at the corners and thunk goes his forehead back onto Lucas' shoulder, the line of his own a shaky thing.

"Dude." A snort. "Murderin' Steve," he gasps, near-silent and disgracefully squeaky. "What a dick."

Edited 2017-06-17 20:25 (UTC)

HORROR MOVIE NIGHT

Lucas & Bash

Lucas & Bash

Lucas & Bash

Lucas & Bash

Lucas & Bash