Log
Who: J.D. and Willow
What: Squabbling over a tape! And movie nerding.
Where: A local rental place.
When: Early evening.
J.D.: Alright, so maybe J.D. should’ve been getting in touch with people, and sharing the information Ada had left on his kitchen table, rather than wandering around a video store downtown. But he was still trying to cling to those last fleeting shreds of normalcy. And it wasn’t like he was ignoring the situation, honest. Even as his eyes scanned the colorful movie boxes, ideas and thoughts (mostly of a decidedly dark nature) were shifting around in the back of his mind. Things just needed to die down a little first, that was all… Yeah, yeah! Really.
Rolling his eyes, Salinas urged his brain to give him five seconds of silence. From there, he continued his aimless sauntering down the aisles of tapes. And eventually he settled on a flick: The Fifth Element. It just-so-happened to be in stock, too. Score! The future, explosions, and Chris Tucker’s obnoxious hair. Sounded good. J.D. grinned and grabbed the tape from behind its display box, and proceeded to turn, intent on heading over to the cashier’s desk.
Willow: And there in his path stood Willow. The girl had her arms crossed over her chest, and was presently shaking her wild head of dark hair at him. Very no nonsense. Even if the height difference compounded with just how young she looked in the faded jeans and printed t-shirt made her just about the opposite of threatening.
"Aw, man! No, you have got to be kidding me. No. Put Bruce Willis down, right now." She jabbed a finger out in indication of the tape. In all seriousness. She had just had the day from hell at work, and this was her movie night god damn it. She was not going to let some (okay, well now that she was actually looking at him he was kinda really hot and she hoped she wasn't blushing) guy take away her movie night. She'd already bought the popcorn.
J.D.: Blink, blink.
"Wuh?" A confused J.D. eyed Willow, one eyebrow quirking comically. It took him a moment to sift through what she'd said.
"Pffft, Chris Tucker and Gary Oldman beat the shit out of Willis in this." And then, to be a twat, he shook the tape in an annoyingly cocky manner. Basically: neener-neener. I has film, you does not.
"No hard feelings, but you know the saying, right? You snooze, you lose." And then he gently pushed past the girl. Like the total fuckass he was.
Willow: No, no. Not only was he taking her tape that she'd been waiting all day for, now he was dissing Bruce. That couldn't stand. When he pushed past she--awkwardly--snatched the tape away and took a few steps around and away from him. Though, still facing him, she put in some distance.
"Nuh-uh, jerkface." Okay, so now it had already deteriorated into name calling. "Aren't guys supposed to be all chivalrous and give it up to the lady, anyway?"
J.D.: "Hey!" J.D. was definitely not sounding pleased. But notice that he didn't try to get the tape back. No, someone would probably notice, and try to nail him for sexual harassment or someshit. He most certainly didn't need that on his plate.
"Don't give me that bullshit, 'cause, y'know, kids are supposed to respect their elders." Kind of a growl, kind of a pout. Still not happy. Yeah, he gets that worked up over a movie.
Willow: "I'm not a kid." Okay, so that was a little snappy, and sounded exactly like the comeback an adult would expect. The movie dropped to her side with her arms and she huffed. "I'm twenty. I'm not even a teenager, thank you very much."
She pouted now, a bit more effectively, and thrust the movie out toward him. "Here. Take your stupid movie, old man."
Later on, Willow would probably kick herself for just how immature she sounded. Right now she wasn't too worried about it. She was thinking more of Bruce.
J.D.: Aaaand he slumped. Dejectedly. A total kicked puppy look spread across his face. Etc.
Waving the tape away weakly, J.D. shook his head.
"Ah... keep it. Call it an apology for the 'kid' thing." Not that she'd, like, called him old or anything.
Anyway, figuring that little spat was over, he shook his head, meandering away. Well, there was always The Evil Dead. Bruce Campbell was pretty badass...
Willow: Okay kicked puppy look kind of made Willow wilt a little. Kicked puppy was not what she wanted. For a moment, she looked down at Bruce, as if he'd make this all better. No such luck.
A few bounding steps later, Willow snagged his elbow, briefly, and held out the tape again. "No, really. I was just being an ass. Don't mind me." Softer, more serious. And please don't look at her with those puppy dog eyes again, mmk?
"I'll get something else."
J.D.: Okay, the kicked puppy went away, only to be replaced by a grinning jackass. Now that he knew her age--not that it really made things any better; Salinas was, after all, pushing 30 (and kind of had a girlfriend)--he calmed down a bit, and was more willing to attempt to be charming. Because, hey. Be a fuckface to kids, but hit on cute women. IT ALL WORKS OUT.
"Nah, you go ahead and take it." He'd grabbed The Evil Dead by this point, and held it up. "I prefer this Bruce, anyway. I mean, the chin, dude."
Willow: Oh, well that just...Okay, so maybe the annoyance at his little act dissipated a little too fast, but that grin was distracting! And Willow could feel her cheeks heating. She glance from Campbell to Willis and pulled a face. "Well that really isn't fair, pitting a Bruce against another Bruce, I mean...c'mon..."
One hand set on her hip and she smiled. "I like him better in Xena though. I think it's the mustache."
J.D.: Aha, was she blushing? That brought on a smirk--he didn't even bother trying to hide it.
J.D. tapped the tape against the outside of his thigh, thoughtfully. When he spoke, his tone was almost embarrassed. "Well. I didn't exactly watch Xena for Bruce."
What? Lucy Lawless was a fuckin' babe.
Willow: "Of course you wouldn't." There was a sharp, little laugh, and she shook her head. Her hand came up to scratch at her forehead so she wouldn't have to see that smirk for like two minutes. And then muttered under her breath, "I kinda really watched it for Aries, anyway." Mumble mumble. Something about the notion of warrior princesses.
"Point being," well at least she was staying on task, "ranking Bruces is just wrong. They're both awesome." Except two seconds later she had to tack on, "But Willis has better stunts."
J.D.: Scoff!
"You don't need stunts when you're the greatest b-movie actor ever." This was said with BURNING CONVICTION.
"But," he muttered, "okay. I'll admit Willis is pretty badass. Especially in Die Hard."
Willow: "Hell yeah, he's badass." She looked half like she'd be giggling next. But now, the laughter reined in before it came out, and all that remained was a smile so wide it probably hurt her cheeks.
"Though, you know, Gary Oldman? Pretty kickass villain." She shrugged, and then relented. "Campbell has better one liners, though, I think. Plus there's the chainsaw..."
J.D.: "Oldman was awesome in True Romance." Maybe he was a bit too excited, and being too chatty, but goddamn if this girl wasn't cute. (There was a slight pang of guilt at that, but J.D. ignored it. Woo.)
"And forget the chainsaw! Ash is all about the boomstick."
Willow: Her head cocked to the side. Curious. She certainly hadn't seen True Romance, and now she wanted to. Even...if it seemed a little off. Most guys she knew would vehemently avoid a film with 'romance' in the title. Then again she supposed the name could be misleading. For a moment she glanced back toward the movie shelves, as if it would be just sitting there waiting for her. Never mind alphabetical order.
And then she turned back to him, and looked at him crookedly. "I don't know. Chainsaws are a little more badass than shotguns." If a little less accurate in terms of viability as a weapon.
J.D.: "They're kinda messy though." J.D. pulled a disgusted face.
Shifting, he clasped the tape beneath his arm and looked thoughtful. "So, if I had decided to keep The Fifth Element, what would you have gotten instead?"
Why was he trying so hard to stay here and talk? Seriously.
Willow: "I dunno." Cue shrug. She really didn't. "Maybe Die Hard. Maybe some god awful chick flick." And there she smirked, but wandered back toward the shelves to look with the distracted. "What was that movie you mentioned? With Gary Oldman? True Romance. Where's that?"
Well maybe the conversation was just interesting. Or normal. Talking about action heroes in movies.
J.D.: J.D. laughed. Chick flicks. Eww.
"Probably under 'T'?" Yeah, it was sarcastic, but still he drifted over towards the section. There was a quiet, "Well. Gary's not in it for very long, but he has dreadlocks, is missing an eye, and acts black... it's worth the watch if you ask me." A pause, while he bent down to grab the movie, which he held out to Willow. "Plus, Tarantino wrote it, so!"
Way, way too excited.
Willow: Huff. She meant genre not. Grumble.
"Dreadlocks, really?" Okay, okay. She was interested. He didn't need to sell it. So she followed and then took it from him, and immediately flipped it to read the back cover before voicing the somewhat distracted and woefully ignorant, "Taranwho?"
J.D.: ... Taranwho. Taranwho. Blasphemy.
"Quentin Tarantino." A little flat. "You know... Pulp Fiction, Reservoir Dogs, Jackie Brown? C'mon, how can you not know who he is?"
Movie dork mode: fully initiated.
Willow: "Ohh." Suddenly knowing, if a little fake. "Well I've seen, uh, the first two. But I don't really pay that much attention to, uh, people who aren't...actors." Yeah. Blink, blink. She looked back down at the cover, and then offered it back. More than a little warily.
"Wasn't really the biggest fan of Pulp Fiction...though." Or Reservoir Dogs. Clearly they had very fundamental disagreements about this Tarantino character.
J.D.: "Ah well." He said, kinda dejectedly, replacing the tape. With that done, J.D. straightened and offered Willow a shrug and a goofy half-grin.
"There's always The Professional if you wanna see Gary Oldman in a good bad guy role."
Willow: She nodded, and smiled again. Because Gary Oldman villains were always awesome. Always. Plus goofy grins were addictive. And she wandered over toward the appropriate shelf for that one. "Sounds good to me."
Two movies were always better than one. Worst case scenario, she'd find out about another movie that she didn't like. But that wasn't all that likely. I mean, Gary Oldman, c'mon. "Thanks for the movie advice." Another smile, full and bright.
J.D.: J.D. couldn't help but smile back. "Not a problem." And then there was a thoughtful pause. The smile grew, and he tipped his head to the side.
"May I escort the young lady to yonder cashier station?"
Painfully corny, but there you go.
Willow: Er. Okay. Her head tipped a little down and she might have reddened a little again. She scratched at her cheek self-consciously. Awkward. "Sure." Painfully corny, but it seemed to work, and she wondered over toward the cashier.
That smile of his was dangerous. He needed to point it at someone else. Or, maybe not...
J.D.: Well, he did stop smiling, kinda. But that was only because, as they moved up front, he kept pointing out movies, critiquing them. And by 'critique', I mean he pointed at various boxes and said "that sucked", or "that was good", etc.
When they'd reached the cashier, J.D. stood back and ushered Willow forward. Ladies first, after all. And the smile was back.
Willow: Mostly she nodded, but she did wrinkle her nose whenever she disagreed. Not that it was that often.
"Okay, Mr. Film Critic." As good a name as any. She smirked back at him and forked over the cash for the tapes...and belatedly added a bag of gummi bears from the impulse-buy-candy-stands while the clerk rung her out.
J.D.: "I'd prefer Mr. Ebert." How very huffy.
After she'd been checked out, J.D. moved forward, wallet in hand, but his attention was currently on the candy. There was a smug smirk on his face. "Gummi bears, huh? Just what every adult needs."
He forked over the cash then, and took his movie. Turning to Willow and offering her his hand (not in marriage, ok), he said, "Well, thanks for the entertainment."
Willow: Huff. Huff! Pout.
"Yeah whatever," to his gummi bears comment and she, so very maturely stuck out her tongue at him. "You're just jealous."
And then she stopped acting like a jerk and took his hand. No more playful scowl, just a grin and a nod. "Thanks for forking over Bruce, for me."
J.D.: He tipped his head back, chuckling, and after a reasonable amount of time--a few seconds--he dropped her hand and waved his copy of The Evil Dead.
"You're welcome. This Bruce is a perfectly acceptable substitute."
What: Squabbling over a tape! And movie nerding.
Where: A local rental place.
When: Early evening.
J.D.: Alright, so maybe J.D. should’ve been getting in touch with people, and sharing the information Ada had left on his kitchen table, rather than wandering around a video store downtown. But he was still trying to cling to those last fleeting shreds of normalcy. And it wasn’t like he was ignoring the situation, honest. Even as his eyes scanned the colorful movie boxes, ideas and thoughts (mostly of a decidedly dark nature) were shifting around in the back of his mind. Things just needed to die down a little first, that was all… Yeah, yeah! Really.
Rolling his eyes, Salinas urged his brain to give him five seconds of silence. From there, he continued his aimless sauntering down the aisles of tapes. And eventually he settled on a flick: The Fifth Element. It just-so-happened to be in stock, too. Score! The future, explosions, and Chris Tucker’s obnoxious hair. Sounded good. J.D. grinned and grabbed the tape from behind its display box, and proceeded to turn, intent on heading over to the cashier’s desk.
Willow: And there in his path stood Willow. The girl had her arms crossed over her chest, and was presently shaking her wild head of dark hair at him. Very no nonsense. Even if the height difference compounded with just how young she looked in the faded jeans and printed t-shirt made her just about the opposite of threatening.
"Aw, man! No, you have got to be kidding me. No. Put Bruce Willis down, right now." She jabbed a finger out in indication of the tape. In all seriousness. She had just had the day from hell at work, and this was her movie night god damn it. She was not going to let some (okay, well now that she was actually looking at him he was kinda really hot and she hoped she wasn't blushing) guy take away her movie night. She'd already bought the popcorn.
J.D.: Blink, blink.
"Wuh?" A confused J.D. eyed Willow, one eyebrow quirking comically. It took him a moment to sift through what she'd said.
"Pffft, Chris Tucker and Gary Oldman beat the shit out of Willis in this." And then, to be a twat, he shook the tape in an annoyingly cocky manner. Basically: neener-neener. I has film, you does not.
"No hard feelings, but you know the saying, right? You snooze, you lose." And then he gently pushed past the girl. Like the total fuckass he was.
Willow: No, no. Not only was he taking her tape that she'd been waiting all day for, now he was dissing Bruce. That couldn't stand. When he pushed past she--awkwardly--snatched the tape away and took a few steps around and away from him. Though, still facing him, she put in some distance.
"Nuh-uh, jerkface." Okay, so now it had already deteriorated into name calling. "Aren't guys supposed to be all chivalrous and give it up to the lady, anyway?"
J.D.: "Hey!" J.D. was definitely not sounding pleased. But notice that he didn't try to get the tape back. No, someone would probably notice, and try to nail him for sexual harassment or someshit. He most certainly didn't need that on his plate.
"Don't give me that bullshit, 'cause, y'know, kids are supposed to respect their elders." Kind of a growl, kind of a pout. Still not happy. Yeah, he gets that worked up over a movie.
Willow: "I'm not a kid." Okay, so that was a little snappy, and sounded exactly like the comeback an adult would expect. The movie dropped to her side with her arms and she huffed. "I'm twenty. I'm not even a teenager, thank you very much."
She pouted now, a bit more effectively, and thrust the movie out toward him. "Here. Take your stupid movie, old man."
Later on, Willow would probably kick herself for just how immature she sounded. Right now she wasn't too worried about it. She was thinking more of Bruce.
J.D.: Aaaand he slumped. Dejectedly. A total kicked puppy look spread across his face. Etc.
Waving the tape away weakly, J.D. shook his head.
"Ah... keep it. Call it an apology for the 'kid' thing." Not that she'd, like, called him old or anything.
Anyway, figuring that little spat was over, he shook his head, meandering away. Well, there was always The Evil Dead. Bruce Campbell was pretty badass...
Willow: Okay kicked puppy look kind of made Willow wilt a little. Kicked puppy was not what she wanted. For a moment, she looked down at Bruce, as if he'd make this all better. No such luck.
A few bounding steps later, Willow snagged his elbow, briefly, and held out the tape again. "No, really. I was just being an ass. Don't mind me." Softer, more serious. And please don't look at her with those puppy dog eyes again, mmk?
"I'll get something else."
J.D.: Okay, the kicked puppy went away, only to be replaced by a grinning jackass. Now that he knew her age--not that it really made things any better; Salinas was, after all, pushing 30 (and kind of had a girlfriend)--he calmed down a bit, and was more willing to attempt to be charming. Because, hey. Be a fuckface to kids, but hit on cute women. IT ALL WORKS OUT.
"Nah, you go ahead and take it." He'd grabbed The Evil Dead by this point, and held it up. "I prefer this Bruce, anyway. I mean, the chin, dude."
Willow: Oh, well that just...Okay, so maybe the annoyance at his little act dissipated a little too fast, but that grin was distracting! And Willow could feel her cheeks heating. She glance from Campbell to Willis and pulled a face. "Well that really isn't fair, pitting a Bruce against another Bruce, I mean...c'mon..."
One hand set on her hip and she smiled. "I like him better in Xena though. I think it's the mustache."
J.D.: Aha, was she blushing? That brought on a smirk--he didn't even bother trying to hide it.
J.D. tapped the tape against the outside of his thigh, thoughtfully. When he spoke, his tone was almost embarrassed. "Well. I didn't exactly watch Xena for Bruce."
What? Lucy Lawless was a fuckin' babe.
Willow: "Of course you wouldn't." There was a sharp, little laugh, and she shook her head. Her hand came up to scratch at her forehead so she wouldn't have to see that smirk for like two minutes. And then muttered under her breath, "I kinda really watched it for Aries, anyway." Mumble mumble. Something about the notion of warrior princesses.
"Point being," well at least she was staying on task, "ranking Bruces is just wrong. They're both awesome." Except two seconds later she had to tack on, "But Willis has better stunts."
J.D.: Scoff!
"You don't need stunts when you're the greatest b-movie actor ever." This was said with BURNING CONVICTION.
"But," he muttered, "okay. I'll admit Willis is pretty badass. Especially in Die Hard."
Willow: "Hell yeah, he's badass." She looked half like she'd be giggling next. But now, the laughter reined in before it came out, and all that remained was a smile so wide it probably hurt her cheeks.
"Though, you know, Gary Oldman? Pretty kickass villain." She shrugged, and then relented. "Campbell has better one liners, though, I think. Plus there's the chainsaw..."
J.D.: "Oldman was awesome in True Romance." Maybe he was a bit too excited, and being too chatty, but goddamn if this girl wasn't cute. (There was a slight pang of guilt at that, but J.D. ignored it. Woo.)
"And forget the chainsaw! Ash is all about the boomstick."
Willow: Her head cocked to the side. Curious. She certainly hadn't seen True Romance, and now she wanted to. Even...if it seemed a little off. Most guys she knew would vehemently avoid a film with 'romance' in the title. Then again she supposed the name could be misleading. For a moment she glanced back toward the movie shelves, as if it would be just sitting there waiting for her. Never mind alphabetical order.
And then she turned back to him, and looked at him crookedly. "I don't know. Chainsaws are a little more badass than shotguns." If a little less accurate in terms of viability as a weapon.
J.D.: "They're kinda messy though." J.D. pulled a disgusted face.
Shifting, he clasped the tape beneath his arm and looked thoughtful. "So, if I had decided to keep The Fifth Element, what would you have gotten instead?"
Why was he trying so hard to stay here and talk? Seriously.
Willow: "I dunno." Cue shrug. She really didn't. "Maybe Die Hard. Maybe some god awful chick flick." And there she smirked, but wandered back toward the shelves to look with the distracted. "What was that movie you mentioned? With Gary Oldman? True Romance. Where's that?"
Well maybe the conversation was just interesting. Or normal. Talking about action heroes in movies.
J.D.: J.D. laughed. Chick flicks. Eww.
"Probably under 'T'?" Yeah, it was sarcastic, but still he drifted over towards the section. There was a quiet, "Well. Gary's not in it for very long, but he has dreadlocks, is missing an eye, and acts black... it's worth the watch if you ask me." A pause, while he bent down to grab the movie, which he held out to Willow. "Plus, Tarantino wrote it, so!"
Way, way too excited.
Willow: Huff. She meant genre not. Grumble.
"Dreadlocks, really?" Okay, okay. She was interested. He didn't need to sell it. So she followed and then took it from him, and immediately flipped it to read the back cover before voicing the somewhat distracted and woefully ignorant, "Taranwho?"
J.D.: ... Taranwho. Taranwho. Blasphemy.
"Quentin Tarantino." A little flat. "You know... Pulp Fiction, Reservoir Dogs, Jackie Brown? C'mon, how can you not know who he is?"
Movie dork mode: fully initiated.
Willow: "Ohh." Suddenly knowing, if a little fake. "Well I've seen, uh, the first two. But I don't really pay that much attention to, uh, people who aren't...actors." Yeah. Blink, blink. She looked back down at the cover, and then offered it back. More than a little warily.
"Wasn't really the biggest fan of Pulp Fiction...though." Or Reservoir Dogs. Clearly they had very fundamental disagreements about this Tarantino character.
J.D.: "Ah well." He said, kinda dejectedly, replacing the tape. With that done, J.D. straightened and offered Willow a shrug and a goofy half-grin.
"There's always The Professional if you wanna see Gary Oldman in a good bad guy role."
Willow: She nodded, and smiled again. Because Gary Oldman villains were always awesome. Always. Plus goofy grins were addictive. And she wandered over toward the appropriate shelf for that one. "Sounds good to me."
Two movies were always better than one. Worst case scenario, she'd find out about another movie that she didn't like. But that wasn't all that likely. I mean, Gary Oldman, c'mon. "Thanks for the movie advice." Another smile, full and bright.
J.D.: J.D. couldn't help but smile back. "Not a problem." And then there was a thoughtful pause. The smile grew, and he tipped his head to the side.
"May I escort the young lady to yonder cashier station?"
Painfully corny, but there you go.
Willow: Er. Okay. Her head tipped a little down and she might have reddened a little again. She scratched at her cheek self-consciously. Awkward. "Sure." Painfully corny, but it seemed to work, and she wondered over toward the cashier.
That smile of his was dangerous. He needed to point it at someone else. Or, maybe not...
J.D.: Well, he did stop smiling, kinda. But that was only because, as they moved up front, he kept pointing out movies, critiquing them. And by 'critique', I mean he pointed at various boxes and said "that sucked", or "that was good", etc.
When they'd reached the cashier, J.D. stood back and ushered Willow forward. Ladies first, after all. And the smile was back.
Willow: Mostly she nodded, but she did wrinkle her nose whenever she disagreed. Not that it was that often.
"Okay, Mr. Film Critic." As good a name as any. She smirked back at him and forked over the cash for the tapes...and belatedly added a bag of gummi bears from the impulse-buy-candy-stands while the clerk rung her out.
J.D.: "I'd prefer Mr. Ebert." How very huffy.
After she'd been checked out, J.D. moved forward, wallet in hand, but his attention was currently on the candy. There was a smug smirk on his face. "Gummi bears, huh? Just what every adult needs."
He forked over the cash then, and took his movie. Turning to Willow and offering her his hand (not in marriage, ok), he said, "Well, thanks for the entertainment."
Willow: Huff. Huff! Pout.
"Yeah whatever," to his gummi bears comment and she, so very maturely stuck out her tongue at him. "You're just jealous."
And then she stopped acting like a jerk and took his hand. No more playful scowl, just a grin and a nod. "Thanks for forking over Bruce, for me."
J.D.: He tipped his head back, chuckling, and after a reasonable amount of time--a few seconds--he dropped her hand and waved his copy of The Evil Dead.
"You're welcome. This Bruce is a perfectly acceptable substitute."