Placing My Neighbor Totoro Onto The Counter As She Greeted Him Like That, He Lifted His Head A Bit, Raising

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Brandon Lee as Eric Draven

THE CROW (1994)

Blink 182 - Wishing hell

@ghxstadventvres

Lighting up a cigarette, Azazel takes a few puffs from it as he lets the end burn for a moment in the flame before cutting the flame off and tucking the lighter back into a pocket. He was currently standing outside the gas station, not a fan of driving, he usually walked around wherever he went. Which he wasn't much of a fan of that either, here lately.

Taking a long drag off his cigarette before he casually moved his hand away to adjust his sunglasses, hiding as much as he could, the dark circles that currently made him look like he hadn't slept in a century or more. Exhaling as he toyed with his glasses, smoke loomed over his head. Securing them more onto his face as he scanned the area. He had no real destination, he didn't even like being out like this, in the open. But it was the middle of the day, so he figured that the worst that could happen at this time was-- Okay, well, a lot of things, yes.

But he imagined that most of those things he'd manage to survive long enough to get home before night hit. But even then, he didn't think he was safe. His breathing picked up for a moment, and he had to calm down. Closing his eyes, he told himself it was all just in his head, and he was overreacting to his own imagination. Yes. That was all it was. Or all he wanted to believe.

Checking his watch, he started to walk away from the gas station, only to get a cold chill up his spine. Turning, he looked around, not seeing anyone even looking at him. Though, a few people were walking to or from their cars. Maybe he should start driving again, it was too nerve-racking to be out in the open like this. Even still, he couldn't help but to feel like someone was watching him. But he felt like that a lot lately.

SHADOW OF THE TOMB RAIDER (2018)

Bring It On (2000) dir. Peyton Reed

Missy telling off the cheerleaders practicing at the eleventh hour requested by anons

Grumbling under his breath, he made his way toward the snack bar, finding all this nonsense at the drive-in to be ruining the evening. Maybe. He was still debating it. At least, it was, more or less, keeping him awake. But what was going down was more like an alarm clock going off on your day off from work, and it just would not stop. Perhaps he was thinking a little too much about it, now that he was starting to dip in wellness once more.

A slight layer of sweat had formed on his skin as he made his way as casually as he could muster, his eyes locked on the space in front of him. Even as the exhaustion caused his head to spin briefly for a couple of seconds here and there. It would pass, however, as it had been doing since his return. It always did. Napping helped. However, it did not entirely pass, as he came up to a scene that stuck out peculiarly to him. Quirking an eyebrow at what he was seeing, Azazel didn't need to lip-read just looking at Kael was good enough.

Exhausted brown eyes glanced toward the two standing around Kael's routes of escape, front or back, a sly smirk formed over his lips. Staring then toward Kael, catching the others' gaze toward him in a brief moment, he takes a step back, ducking out of sight behind a structure for cover. Moving to quietly remove his backpack, he dug through it, retrieving the knife he kept in there, figuring it would be easier than the gun he was carrying with him, since they were still surrounded by people. He tucked the knife up his shirt sleeve and then moved to bring his backpack back onto his shoulders.

Walking back out into view, he kept his attention not entirely on the scene, but on the one that had his back toward him. Quickly walking up behind that one he flicked out the arm concealing the blade, now that he was close enough to keep from others seeing him with it and doing anything to warn anyone he was close. Before bringing it to the neck of the masked person by pressing up close to them, he narrowed his eyes from behind them onto their partner, his other hand gripping at the back of the one he was holding the knife against the throat of, jerking it forcefully back to expose their throat more. Cold brown eyes remained on their partner as he pressed the blade against skin, enough to draw blood, “How about you kids go play somewhere else, hm?” He pressed the blade harder into flesh.

Turning his head a little, he whispered into the first masked person's ear, “I'm going to stick this blade deep into your brain, if I can find it- since it's peanut-sized and everything- then, once it's all blended up in there, I'm going to make your friend here watch as it spills out of your nose.” Still staring at the second masked person, “Just so they know what I'm going to do to them,- if you two don't get the fuck out of my sight by the time I count to ten-one…two…-three…” Now all he had to do was hope that Kael got a clue on what he should do next.

weekend of horrors, drive-in, after 8pm / @boneyardstarters

There was a part of him that knew, realistically, he should be a little panicked by this. Stressed out, maybe. Perhaps even a little afraid. But, somehow, the most prominent emotions shooting through his mind were embarrassment and exasperation. A series of mishaps and poorly executed attempts to scramble to gain an upper hand had gotten him into this exact situation but, really, none of it would have happened if the Big Guy back there could have just minded his own fucking business. Perhaps, having only just returned to consciousness, he was too out of it to really accept the weight of the situation. That, and he was in too much pain to think straight. There was little doubt his wrist was broken and it only took the briefest running of his tongue over his teeth to confirm that, no, he hadn't dreamt up that he'd lost one in that fight. (Calling it a fight might have been something of a stretch, given how poorly it had gone.) His mouth still tasted distinctly of iron.

Where did that leave him now? Sat at the drive-in theatre, between two of these big bodyguard-looking guys with no obvious means of escape. To put it simply, he was fucked. Perhaps he might have tried to make a break for it himself but there was little chance of him not getting caught in the best circumstances, never mind right now. It's clumsy, maybe even hopeless, but his only bet now was to try and catch the eye of a passer-by. There were enough people around, after all.

Oi. Look over here, he mouthed, trying to keep his posture stiff enough that the two people he was sat between did not catch on. Now, knowing his luck, the chances of him catching the eye of someone could lipread were fairly low but perhaps the desperate look on his face would speak for itself. You wanna help a guy out? I'm a little stuck.