Warm balls of popcorn goodness

Who: Nate and Indira
When: Afternoon
Where: Movie theater!

Indira couldn't stay in her home a minute longer. It was a nice enough place, but she could never forget that they were as trapped in this town as she had been back in the experiment house. It was a feeling she detested, and even with the alterations she'd made to secure it, it meant she was out and walking in the cold. The weather was cloudy, which matched her mood, and exploring the town gave her ample time to brood as well.

That is, until movement in the corner of her eye distracted her. She turned to catch the source with her one good eye, seeing lights on in the movie theater and the popcorn machine going. There was no way the place was running on its own, which meant someone had to have gone in and started everything up. A little curious despite her misgivings - which said she should be heading home and ignoring the theater - Indira went in. She was careful not to touch doors with her bare hands, pushing them open in case anything was going to fall, but nothing happened. It wasn't until she'd gotten up to the concessions counter that she heard noise from one of the theaters, and she went to check it out. Pushing open the theater door, she was rather surprised to find a movie playing, a man sitting alone in the theater as if the entire town wasn't gearing up to survive the winter.

Nate had been bored. He'd had enough of all this panicked talk and other bullshit. The lot of them were like fucking sheep and they could just run around not knowing which way was up and pretending (and failing) to get organised if they liked. He was sure that his wife was out there helping them along in her own special way and he'd give that a go at some point. but not today. Today he was taking some him-time. Which had ended up involving wandering into the theatre and messing around with switches and cables until he'd managed to get a film showing - some black and white old style flick he didn't recognise, but he was happy enough anyhow. He'd wandered around, switched on the popcorn machine and followed an instruction manual he found under the counter until it started producing warm balls of popcorn goodness enough to fill a large tub, then he'd settled himself down to watch some man try and pursue some woman with supposedly hilarious consequences. Or something. Mostly, it was just good popcorn.

Indira was surprised enough that she stood and watched a second or two of the movie before she was unable to conceal a snort at the ridiculously contrived plot. Old films, to her, were hit or miss - there were a lot of gems, but some she couldn't imagine ever making it these days. She couldn't see who the man was in the dark - maybe if she'd had two good eyes, but her vision now just wasn't good enough. It was frustrating enough to give her tone a bit of an edge. "I suppose you're one of the group who expects everyone will be taking care of you when things get rough," she said, over the noise of the movie.

Nate rolled his head round, but didn't get up, leaving his feet up on the back of the chair in front of him. "No," he told her, easily. "I'm quite capable of taking care of myself." He just was taking a break from making it look as if he was all gung ho about giving a flying fuck about any of the others. Which, he knew, he needed to start doing again, since someone had found him. He suppressed a sigh and sat up, setting the half full tub on the seat next to him as he turned to the woman in the semi-darkness, the only real light from the flickering screen. "Several places, being set up, bolt holes if you would - I've been checking out the houses on the south side of town, since I live round there. One or two of the places look like good possibilities, though it might be worth casting around to see if we have a locksmith in town still - multiple sets of keys would probably be of benefit, after all. Though, at the same time, would decrease security - but it largely depends upon your level of paranoia. From what I've seen though, it's basically jammed on 'really fucking high'." He raised an eyebrow and waited to see what she'd say.

"With good reason," Indira said, arms crossing over her chest. She took from his apparent lack of paranoia that he hadn't been part of an experiment, which in turn only made her suspicious. She trusted no one who hadn't gone through what the other participants had - and even then, she really only trusted people from her own experiment. "No one here knows anyone else from Adam. I wouldn't want all and sundry to have access to supplies that are supposed to ensure my survival through the winter." Which was another reason she wasn't trusting just anyone. Or offering to care for others.

Nate raised an eyebrow. "Well, there you go then. That's your choice. But, since you raised it, what makes you think that just because I'm not devoting my every waking moment to preparing for disaster and making like a squirrel, I expect other people to take care of me?" he asked her.

"Call me crazy," Indira said dryly, aware that some likely would with feeling, "but it seems like watching a movie when everyone else is busy hoarding supplies and making plans would be rather counterproductive to your goal of survival. Assuming that is your goal, of course. Unless your house came with a fully-stocked bomb shelter?" In this crazy 50s-era town, who knew?

"Maybe I'm just that well organised that I have it done already," Nate suggested, coolly. Or maybe he had a wife and the two of them work working together. "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. So, what's your story then?" he asked her, looking intrigued.

"I suppose you'd want a gold star, then," Indira said, rolling her eyes though the gesture would likely be lost under both the folds of her veil and the shadowed interior. "My story?" she said. "What makes you think I feel like sharing it? Besides, if you've heard one, you've heard them all," she said dismissively. "What are you - intern or volunteer?"

"You don't ask, you don't get," Nate pointed out. "But, I'll rephrase it if you would prefer, though I'm now assuming you're a participant. Personally, I'm a volunteer - which, I would imagine, is why you're currently thinking I'm not half as paranoid as I should be for my own good. Apologies in advance for that, but I can't be other than I am," he lied. Nate could be whatever he wanted to be, and he was good at guessing what other people thought of him - he'd built a career on it.

She relaxed only slightly when she heard him say he was a volunteer, though she wasn't yet sure if that was any better. The volunteers had been approved for a reason, hadn't they? Sure, it looked like they were in the same boat as the participants, but one could never be sure who was real and who was a plant. "You can never be too paranoid," she said then. "Things have a way of coming around and biting you on the ass if you're not."

"I think you have to really have been there to be able to appreciate that," Nate said, his tone softening and entirely sympathetic. "You have to appreciate that it's hard for someone like me to really take on board everything. Even if I hear it, it's never going to be the same..."

Indira stiffened at his tone, hand automatically going to check her veil as her eyes narrowed. "Then it's not my fault if you end up hurt or dead," she snapped. His pity was the last thing she wanted. "You're getting plenty of warning. Either heed them or not, it doesn't matter to me."

"I intend to end up neither," Nate reassured her, noting the way she checked her veil. He wondered what was under there. He promised himself that he'd find out. "But thank you for your warnings, all the same."

"Intentions don't necessarily keep something from happening," Indira pointed out. "And don't thank me. I'm not saying anything that can't be figured out from looking around this place." The flickering, changing light - what there was of it - was beginning to give her a headache, and she reached up to rub tiredly at her forehead. "But if I were you, I'd be hoping someone back home figures out where you are before it's too late." On that particularly cheerful pronouncement, she turned to leave before her headache got any worse.

Nate watched her go, interested. He could see where the paranoia was stemming from, even if he didn't know details, he'd just never met a group of people like this before. It was - yes, it was definitely interesting. Even if it meant that he couldn't play his usual games. He'd have to find other ones. He always did. That was half of the fun.