Snippet #2525316

Hmm. Cormac brought sceptical fingers up to his chin, and he nodded grimly, conceding to Craig, "You have a point. I mean, it was a pretty damn big festival, but if Izzie caught sight of us she'd probably tell us to make like trees and make trails. Well, that's the festival out, then. I don't reckon either of yous are terribly big fans of Marvel, are you?" he added dubiously, glancing from Kodie to Craig and vice versa, totally prepared to hear one or the other remark that all they knew about Marvel was that there was a dude named Badger or some shit with claws taped to his knuckles and wicked anger issues--

"I think going to see the new X-Men could be fun."

Cormy's gaze flitted back to Kodie, brow furrowing-- but Craig beat him to the unspoken question. Huh, he couldn't help but muse. Can't say I saw that one coming. He had to remind himself yet again that he couldn't exactly pretend to be surprised by anything he learned about Kodie, any more than he could anybody else he'd only known for a handful of days in a purely professional setting. But hey-- it was cool to have somebody in the band who shared his own interests outside of music, if only for a little while. Craig was... well, actually, Cormac couldn't even tell you what Craig was into other than working out and socialising, and Izzie seemed to entertain a passion for literally everything-- quantum mechanics, gender studies, human history, ethnolinguistics, cytogenetics, anatomy-- basically anything and everything except what Cormac was interested in. Hangin' out with Craig was good fun, sure, and Cormac honestly did enjoy listening to Izzie drunkenly sharing knowledge even if he was convinced it was possibly the strangest drunken quirk he'd ever encountered, but maybe now he'd have somebody to complain to about how damn overpowered Batman was (seriously, he couldn't be the only person who thought Batman would be a much more interesting character if, y'know, he didn't know every martial art ever and have the physical strength of Superman on steroids).

"Irrelevant!" he spontaneously declared, perking up immediately. "For we've a film to watch. Come, comrades! Onward to the cinema!" He marched off through the doors like Julius Caesar boldly leading his legions across the Rubicon, though his gravitas was more than a little sullied when he promptly set off every alarm in the place and he had to be escorted back into the store to set down the Jungle Rot CD he'd been toting along the whole time. His dignity somewhat tarnished but nevertheless resolute in his determination to do every conquering warlord proud with his bravado, the young drummer merely turned right back around, struck a gallant pose, bellowed "Once more unto the breach, dear friends! We ride for the theatre!" and marched through the doors again.

And so the afternoon went along.







Well, that perked Chris right up, didn't it? Lestari couldn't help a widening of her smile as the bassist took to grinning and assuring all around him of the masterpiece of cinema they were about to witness. She shoved a hand into the pocket of her hoodie, withdrawing her phone-- her lovely little multi-tool. She couldn't talk, and in face to face interactions she still preferred the notepad as much out of habit as out of greater efficacy with handwriting than with navigating the little buttons on her phone, but there was still a reason she'd splurged more than a fair bit of money on this sleek new smart phone of hers. It was just about a computer she could carry around in her pocket-- looking up directions to the nearest theatre was the least of its capabilities, and many of its other uses were unique in their utility to the mute woman.

There was a theatre a few blocks from the hotel that was doing a showing of the film in a couple hours-- in fact... Oh. Mott Street. She smiled. The theatre was just around the corner of Lombardi's, and though Lestari had only lived in New York for seven years, even she knew damn well that if you were within a mile's radius of Lombardi's, you were absolutely obligated to step in for a pie, and it didn't matter one bit if you were on your own or with fifty other people. It was in the New York Constitution or some shit. Granted, Liam and Chris had finished up with breakfast only just now, but Lestari hadn't eaten, and anybody who'd been on a tour bus with Lestari Kiaidemak for any meaningful amount of time could testify that she could very comfortably dispose of an entire New York-style pizza on her own, and then complain about the small portions.

So she showed the little map on her phone screen off to her two bandmates, and then, taking up her notebook, added, There's a couple hours before the movie's showing, so I elect we grab some pizza before then! She looked from Chris, to Liam, and then impatiently, as if to say, Well, any fuckin' time now, jackasses!, she motioned vividly with her hands for them to stand up, and did so herself in the same motion.