Movie Night
"Ow." Beast Boy murmurs, rubbing the inside of his cheek. Sharp fangs and a vegetarian diet makes for an easily abused set of gums. "So much for popcorn..." Garfield mutters, sighing as he sets the bowl of stuff on the coffee table. He had been debating giving Dick a call, but ultimately decided that the best thing he could do for his old friend is to give the guy a little space. The last time Gar tried to be mature and thoughtful when addressing something tragic, he ended up framed for murder by his very own costumed nemesis. So, instead, Beast Boy's locked himself away...uh, kicked back for some time by himself. Yeah. That's it. "What's on, anyway..."
Click. "Seen it." Click. "Seen it." Click. "Didn't get a call back for it..." Click.
Garfield's eyes widen at the sight; a prawn-looking alien creature was being ripped apart by grim looking physicians in pale white scrubs, clinically dissecting living, thinking beings in front of a terrified person who had the misfortune to be accidentally exposed to the alien DNA. Seen this, Beast Boy thinks, as the memories come flooding back. King Tawaba's corpse, the flight from the Nigerian mobsters...
"I didn't know..." The Afrikaner insists to another crustacean. "Liar." Beast Boy mutters, remembering a young boy who had helped the impoverished mutant, giving food and offering shelter. Garfield slipping inside of the building, not hearing the metal doors slamming shut until it was too late, seeing the bag of money shoved into his 'friend's hand as he's dragged off by large men in thick, pale medical scrubs. "...your father's making it all up..." the victim insists to his wife, and Garfield remembers years later when he learned who the mysterious man in the wheelchair he caught out of the corner of his eye was.
Beast Boy's transfixed, trapped by the film even as he recalls four expressions of revulsion and disgust on four feminine faces, as the 'hero' is absolutely rejected by his wife, "Really, idiot?" Terra sneered, kicking Beast Boy in the ribs and putting her cigarette out on his face for good measure while the Terminator looked on with incestuous paternal pride. "Why do you think I never let you touch me? It just amazes me, how much of my crap you took, cause sweet, innocent, buck-toothed Tara'd never deceive her special someone..." It was all flirtation, the whole thing a show for Deathstroke's sake, he could smell her arousal as she came closer, and closer, and bit Garfield's nose, digging in until he started to bleed.
"I love the look on their faces when they die." The sadistic soldier whispered, jabbing the alien in the rubs with a pistol and Beast Boy finally manages to hit the remote, clicking the television off and looking at his shaking hands...the left holding a hunk of wood that he'd been chewing.
Like a hamster.
Sinking his face into his knees, Beast Boy refuses the instinct to shift forms, digging his claws into his palms and praying to himself that he keeps quiet. He doesn't think he can take putting on a smile right now.
Click. "Seen it." Click. "Seen it." Click. "Didn't get a call back for it..." Click.
Garfield's eyes widen at the sight; a prawn-looking alien creature was being ripped apart by grim looking physicians in pale white scrubs, clinically dissecting living, thinking beings in front of a terrified person who had the misfortune to be accidentally exposed to the alien DNA. Seen this, Beast Boy thinks, as the memories come flooding back. King Tawaba's corpse, the flight from the Nigerian mobsters...
"I didn't know..." The Afrikaner insists to another crustacean. "Liar." Beast Boy mutters, remembering a young boy who had helped the impoverished mutant, giving food and offering shelter. Garfield slipping inside of the building, not hearing the metal doors slamming shut until it was too late, seeing the bag of money shoved into his 'friend's hand as he's dragged off by large men in thick, pale medical scrubs. "...your father's making it all up..." the victim insists to his wife, and Garfield remembers years later when he learned who the mysterious man in the wheelchair he caught out of the corner of his eye was.
Beast Boy's transfixed, trapped by the film even as he recalls four expressions of revulsion and disgust on four feminine faces, as the 'hero' is absolutely rejected by his wife, "Really, idiot?" Terra sneered, kicking Beast Boy in the ribs and putting her cigarette out on his face for good measure while the Terminator looked on with incestuous paternal pride. "Why do you think I never let you touch me? It just amazes me, how much of my crap you took, cause sweet, innocent, buck-toothed Tara'd never deceive her special someone..." It was all flirtation, the whole thing a show for Deathstroke's sake, he could smell her arousal as she came closer, and closer, and bit Garfield's nose, digging in until he started to bleed.
"I love the look on their faces when they die." The sadistic soldier whispered, jabbing the alien in the rubs with a pistol and Beast Boy finally manages to hit the remote, clicking the television off and looking at his shaking hands...the left holding a hunk of wood that he'd been chewing.
Like a hamster.
Sinking his face into his knees, Beast Boy refuses the instinct to shift forms, digging his claws into his palms and praying to himself that he keeps quiet. He doesn't think he can take putting on a smile right now.