Stitch #46

[anti_buttons]

Another day, another crisis. I hope everyo

There seems to be an abundance of confusion regarding Christmas, or the "traditional" read "commercial" Yultide holidays that my world and many within the city are familiar with, leading me to be tempted to post a brief explanation about it. If only to eliminate the incessant redundant queries on the

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[thunderwitch]

[Up on your couch, staring sullenly at your network.]

... Keep that thing away from me.

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[anti_buttons]

[Not even looking at you, oh yeah~ but sounding rather bored as he says:]

It can smell your fear.

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[thunderwitch]

[Irritable, still, jerking up into a stiff sit on the sofa, hands clenched on her thighs.]

Not funny!

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[anti_buttons]

[He has, at this point, become pretty talented at ignoring all of her sudden movements]

I thought so.

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[thunderwitch]

[But she's still excitable, in a way, in that her moods can still swing from sullen and depressed to furious and irritated in less time than it takes to blink, the way she sags again, clutching vainly at the bandages over her chest.]

Well I didn't.

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[anti_buttons]

[And of course, at this time, his attention is more drawn at those moments in-between fury and high energy. His eyes flick toward her briefly.]

Too bad. ... Interested in another?

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[thunderwitch]

[She's stagnating, she can feel it, the heat, rotting in her breast, beneath her shame, where nothing but a hole should be, and she hates it, fears it, everything. It's still too much. She's not used to dealing with complex emotions, even with dealing with more than one or two at a time, and the barrage that comes with a heart makes her head swim.]

... Only if it's actually funny.

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[anti_buttons]

[It's true that Ishida cannot comprehend, cannot empathize with her current conflict. In simple truth, he has no desire to begin to try it, and forced (forced, indeed) to stomach her presence as a constant, he handles his sense of her tormoil as he can -- by ignoring it, by putting on visual distractions. He shifts the computer aside, unfolding from the couch.]

It's entertaining. A classic.

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[thunderwitch]

[It's approaching burnout, at this point. Where she's felt so much and it hurts so much that she just can't do it anymore. Soon, soon, she thinks, but it never seems soon enough, that this nasty lump of tissue will leave her, eyes blank, not even responding to his movements, either.]

Go on.

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[anti_buttons]

Raiders of the Lost Ark. Featuring the character Indiana Jones, an archeologist. It's an adventure flick, very cool.

[He's bending to pick up his bag, open it, and retrieve the DVD rented. Ishida sets up the movie, using the action to continue not thinking about the Arrancar who'd taken up a kind of half-dwelling on his couch in the past few days. Finally he steps back, control in hand, but letting the previews run.]

... Popcorn?

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[thunderwitch]

[She sits, small, in the couch corner, large eyes reflecting dimly the images on the screen. She likes the movies. No, she doesn't, really. She likes having something to concentrate on, to distract herself.]

... Yes.

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[anti_buttons]

[More to do; letting her find distractions from her heart, from her refound humanity, letting him find distractions from her. To the kitchen, to the microwave, four minutes or so of slow pop---pop-pop-popopopoPOP--pop. He's seating himself at the opposite end of the couch as the opening hits, pushing the bowl toward her]

Here. I'd elaborate on the politics at work, but they aren't ... well, it's not a movie about political accuracy, to say the least.

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[thunderwitch]

[She only pecks at the popcorn, she only ever pecks at human food, and it seems odd, even as small as she is, that she can operate under such little amount of nourishment, tough she jumbles a few pieces in her palm, slow, eyes still watching.]

... I hate politics.

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[anti_buttons]

[Even when he bothers to serve vegetable friend rice, light things, nuorishment; he's learned not to think much of it, to waste half-bags of popcorn (or pick them from the cushions and floor), as he isn't going to eat all of it. Though he now takes a handful]

They're a loose set-up. Not particularly important, not an accurate reflection of -- well, again, this isn't that sort of movie. Sheer entertainment. Cool moves.

[As a boy, he had a brief spell of wishing desperately to be an archeology professor. with the force.]

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[thunderwitch]

[She falls silent, to watch, not watch so much as just pay attention, but her hands seize up, fall to the blade, useless, still at her side, even in his clothes at her side, pulling Golondrina into her lap and clutching it weakly.]

Maybe he is.

[A "cool" character, that is.]

For a human.

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[anti_buttons]

[He watches; though he's seen it before, it's a classic for a reason, and he can't completely disguise his enthusiasm beneath his cold exterior; glancing blindly at her clutch at the weapon, he insists]

Indiana Jones is completely cool, more than just for a human.

[Adamantly insisted, and he gestures, wordless, insistent, at the screen, because sometimes Ishida Uryuu is a boy teenager.

And hell, he got hung up on cool speeches and cool behavior somehow.]