Arty, holding a backpack stuffed with various things he'll need for spending the weekend away from home, is sitting on the front steps outside the apartment building. He's huddled up in the too-big coat he constantly borrows, blinking blearily and looking slightly anxious. He likes Keye just fine,... but being looked after (Violet was careful not to say 'babysitting') by him? That's different.
Sighing noisily, though no one's around to hear, the boy slumps onto his backpack.
He doesn't see why they couldn't have just let him alone for the weekend. He wouldn't have done anything.
...Not on purpose, anyway.

Keye, when he arrives, looks no less anxious.
"Ah--hey, kid. Sorry 'm a little late. Long walk, y'know?"
He clears his throat, glancing around as if he expects someone else to pop out of the woodwork.
"So we, uh...walk back now, I guess. C'mon."

Violet and Dave have already left, but Arty was given Instructions as to what to do if, for whatever reason, Keye didn't turn up.
But here he is, so Arty doesn't have to remember them anymore.
"Mmkay."
He gets to his feet and slings the bag onto his back, pausing a moment to sniffle - he's still getting over that cold.
"We're going to your place, huh?" (He hopes Alexander won't be there.)

"Yep."
And without further ado, he leads the way.

"So what's goin' on?"

Arty trots quickly along, trying to keep up.
"I dunno..." he replies, giving a listless shrug. "Stuff. Not much. What're we gonna do at your place?"
Read; is there going to be anything fun to do? You're not going to make me play board games, are you?

"Um...I dunno..."
Alexander's old apartment isn't exactly a den of excitement, entertainment-wise.
"We can watch movies?"
Keye has a cold too, you know. He's not feeling up to too terribly much.

"Oh. Okay."
The look on his face is one of grudging approval. Movies are alright, if they have explosions, and no mushy stuff. They're better than board games, anyway.
"So,...so what'd Vi tell you?" he asks, forcibly nonchalant.
Did she mention a bedtime, a curfew, anything...?

"Keep an eye on you, keep you out of trouble."
That's about it, really. Shrug.

Bedtime is a foreign concept to Keye. Curfew is not.

Arty represses a sigh of relief. If that's all she told Keye, that gives him a lot of leeway. He can insist he's allowed to stay up as late as he wants, can watch whatever tv shows he wants, can wander around outside in the middle of the night if he chooses to...
"Oh, alright. Just wondering."
This could be fun, if he plays his cards right.

Keye does have his own rules, you know.

"Mmkay. Got anything you wanna watch? I have some cool old zombie movies..."

"I dunno... Are they any good?"
He's never seen a zombie movie. Ever.
Arty's not a big horror movie fan - they generally don't have noisy explosions or flashy fight scenes, and therefore aren't interesting.
"Ooh. Can we make popcorn?"

"I...think we can make popcorn." he nods.
He has explosion-movies too, if it comes to that.
"I dunno, I think they're pretty cool."

"Good."
Arty likes popcorn. It's noisy and messy, like him.
"Which ones've you got?" Pause. "Are they really scary, or are they just the black and white ones like Violet watches? Because those aren't much good... they're not even scary at all."

"A little bit of both...I actually haven't looked at 'em all, most of them are Bo's. I think there's some like...Mission Impossible, that kinda thing, some art films, dramas...Bo just likes movies, pretty much, there's a little bit of everything."

"Ohhhh... okay."
With that amount of variety, he's bound to find something he likes.

"D'you know if you have any really scary movies?"
You know, like the kind Vi wouldn't let him watch.

"Oh, definitely." he grins gleefully.

Does it even cross his mind a little that showing the kid scary movies might not be a good idea? No.

"Awesome," Arty says approvingly.
Ha, so it begins!

This is going to be so easy.

Keye did try to warn Violet. He really has no idea he's doing anything that could be considered wrong. If Arty was younger, maybe, but he's plenty old enough to handle a scary movie or two...

And eventually, they get to the apartment. Keye directs Arty to his room.
"The movies are in the closet. I'll go make the popcorn and you pick one and bring it back to the living room, okay?"

"Okay!"
Arty drops his backpack and scampers off to dig through the films. He finds one he likes before too long - the cover is unusual and ominous-looking, but even better than that? There's a little red sticker on the back of the case rating it as 18+. Grinning to himself - Violet would never let him watch something rated 18+, no matter how many times he insists he's more than old enough - he brings the movie to show Keye.
"'kay, I picked one," he says cheerfully.

"Ooh." is all Kete says, glancing at it. "I haven't seen that one before. All right, let's put it in."

And there is a bowl of popcorn and a couple of pillows on the floor, and...the movie begins.


It's a little...excessive.

There's a perfectly good reason why Violet would never let Arty watch this kind of movie. Ninety he may be, but he hasn't yet been exposed to the concentrated terror- and gore-fest that is the modern horror film.

He's curiously silent through it all, and a tad pale...and eventually he's shivering,...and then as the movie is reaching its climax, he turns a bit green, gets up, and rushes to the bathroom. Thanks to the retching sounds that follow, one can easily guess what he's doing.

"Oh, jesus." Keye slams the power button and lurches to his feet. He'd been so transfixed himself, he hadn't even noticed...
Stupid!
He leans in the door.
"God. Arty, man, you okay? Do you need help?"
He looks like he could use someone to hold his hair back, so Keye kneels down and does so with one large hand, gingerly patting Arty's back with the other.

"...'m okay," he mutters hoarsely, after he finishes gagging. " 'S nothing. Must be getting sick again."
That's only true if by 'sick' he means 'not conditioned enough to handle a twisted, gory, terrifying movie that is totally inappropriate for him'.
"That was gross," he grumbles, sitting back on his heels. "...Sorry."

"It was my fault, wasn't it." Sorrowfully, he strokes Arty's hair (an unconscious action; Bo always did it for him).
"You're all clammy. Maybe we should watch something different. God, I'm so sorry."

Ooops.

"It wasn't the movie," Arty frowns. No stupid movie could have made him sick like that.
Of course it couldn't.
"I'm just a little sick. It's nothing." Wobbling just a tiny bit, he gets to his feet. "Let's finish watching. I wanna see how it ends."

"Everybody dies."
There.
"We don't need to finish it. I didn't like it anyway."

"Well, I guess if you don't want to..."
His tone is reluctant, but that's definitely a look of relief on his face.
Arty nervously brushes his hands off on his shirt, though there's nothing there to wipe off.
"What're we going to watch instead?"

Keye frowns. Something he's seen before, not a lot of blood, but some exciting stuff...
"How about Triple X?"
A horrible movie, but definitely full of explosions, and he thinks there's even some snowboarding.

"...Okay."
That one, at least he's heard of. He doesn't know nor care if it's a horrible movie - if it has explosions, that's good enough for him.
...There had better not be any suspense,though His stomach probably can't take it at the moment.

The movies are switched.
It's loud and obnoxious and full of fire, and would normally be quite enjoyable.
Keye spends the whole time watching Arty remorsefully.

Arty doesn't notice, as he has his gaze fixed firmly on the screen. He has the remarkable capability to switch his attention from one thing to another with ease, and keep it there.
He just sits still and watches, one arm draped over his stomach, giggling occasionally at particularly spectacular explosions.

Finally, Keye begins to relax, turning his attention to the television (though he's learned his lesson-he checks on the kid with a sideways glance every now and again).

The movie ends eventually.

"Did you like it?" Keye inquires timidly.

"It was good," is Arty's conclusion. "I'd watch it again."
He sits up - he's been slouching up to now - and rubs at his eyes. He doesn't look sick anymore, but he's keeping his arm draped over his stomach. What good that's supposed to do, I don't know.

"Do you want some, uh..."
What do you give sick people, now?
"Ginger ale?"

"Sure!"

He likes ginger ale. One; it's soda, and who doesn't like soda? Two; it has lots of sugar. Yum, sugar.

Keye doesn't know what he's getting into, does he?

The poor oblivious creature fetches some ginger ale and puts it in a glass (lots of ice-at least it'll be a bit watered down) and hands it to Arty.
"There. Settle your stomach. Bo says so, anyways."

"...Thank you."
Arty takes a first, cautious sip of the soda, and when it doesn't make him sick again, he quickly downs the rest. And just for the sake of the noise, he crunches the ice cubes.
"So. What're we gonna do now?"
Why yes, he does expect Keye to keep him entertained.

"We've watched a movie and a half." Keye says cautiously. "Think it's a little late."

"It's not late yet."
Arty pouts at him. It's only late when he's tired enough to want to sleep, and he's defnitely not tired.
"Not even close."

Keye looks at him balefully.
"I have a gameboy someplace."

We are not wandering the city after dark. We are not. Absolutely not.

"I dunno, Arty, you wanna watch another movie?"

This may be a milestone in history.
Keye is sleepy.
He's a bit sick, and he'd like to go to bed.