Raffy was enjoying the conversation about movies. Other than causing drama and constantly being on her phone to augment the drama, movies was what she did in her downtime. She liked books, sure, she especially enjoyed [i]The Art of War[/i], but nothing was as good as a movie. It was mindless; she didn’t have to think for once in order to follow along. All she had to do was stare, listen, and maybe blink a few times. Movies were a guilty pleasure, an escape from the hard brain teasers that came along with finding ways to pin so-and-so against so-and-so. For once, when the conversation came about, Raffy didn’t think of advantages and disadvantages; she truly wasn’t being fake, for once, but instead she leaned forward and listened with rapt attention. She hummed in agreement to the Brat Pack films – she loved Robert Downy Jr. in Weird Science – and turned her attention to the talkative Michael when he offered his favorites. She was a bit disappointed when he didn’t elaborate, though. 

Her previously bad mood had begun to dwindle as she entered a more calm state and for that she was thankful. For a while there, Raphaela wondered if she would lose it. The slipping of control, the unknown variables of their departure from the town – it was all a bit too much and she felt as if she was going to break. It would be a shame if she were to shatter, she had so many goals and to complete, a Bucket List if you will. Now – well, now she forgot. Everything left her mind as she dwelled on the overused movie plots that she loved, the best worst movie [i]Sharknado[/i] which took many lines from [i]Jaws[/i], and the odd thought of how did Donkey make dirty with a freaking dragon. But then fucking Leon ruined it.

He paraded around the picture for all to see, passing it around to turn the genial group into a mass of solemnity. Did he know how hard it was to make a good first impression when [i]everyone was depressed[/i]? So, yes, it was safe to say she was annoyed. Angry. Frustrated. She just wanted peace and quiet – [i]and a little bit of control and normalcy[/i]. Was it too much to ask for? Apparently it was. When the phone came around to her, she passed it on without looking. All the picture would do would bring up sentimental thoughts and unneeded [i]feelings[/i]. Those feelings would make her sanity slip again and she [i]really[/i] didn’t want that. At all. However, her mood took yet another turn – [i]this was, after all, the third twist of her disposition that night[/i] – when Sparky the Fire Dog decided he needed to light up his lungs.

Raffy knew she promised to keep her hands off for the night, but he was all alone! It was too tempting of an offer. She just shouldn’t do anything, though. Planting a seed of friendship is all she needs; no deep stuff, nothing complicated, just a friendly hand. And, well, she did feel bad for him. Not too bad that would prevent her from using him and possibly ruining his not-really-living life, but she still had that inkling of pity. Thus, she wiped her face of all emotion – Raffy often bragged that she had the best poker face there was – leaving not even the pity, and allowed that diminutive [i]real[/i] sympathy show on her face as she approached him. Raffy didn’t say anything, just leaned on the tree and looked at the ground. In all reality, there wasn’t anything Raffy could say at that point. Anything she said could turn him away, could make him irritated at her, but saying nothing could achieve the same result. But she said nothing.