Chapter Text
Only one in ten movies ever felt interesting.
This, clearly, was not that one in ten.
Makima stared dully at the screen. You'd never know it from just looking at her- her expression rarely shifted even for the good movies- but she was terribly bored. Sometimes her break days went like this. In a perfect world, shows like this wouldn't exist, but oh well.
The plot was basic. Skeletal. A template she'd identified a hundred times by this point. The highlight was easily the villain, a half-snake hypnotist that almost reminded her of a fiend, but even that did little to elevate the work. It made her feel nothing. Even the posters hadn't really interested her- she was here out of obligation, if anything.
…Perhaps that was the issue. She had come in with low expectations. Makima's judgemental gaze was an intense pressure even to herself. It was hard to believe that there may be value in this work, but if she was to know for sure, she would have to meet it on its terms. The villain was, as noted, the best part, but Makima viewed them as little more than a pretty face and a suave voice. She- that is, the movie villain- was clearly meant to command power. To be above the viewer. So she would try to view her that way.
It improved things. Ever so slightly. Elevated the tension an inch. So she saw no reason to stop this shift in perspective. It did not make the movie good- no, hardly- but at the very least, this did not feel like an active waste of her time and money anymore.
But there was… one thing.
The villain had the hero in the palm of her hand. She had leaned in, close, the camera switching to the hero's point of view as she gazed into the half-snake's spiraling eyes. Those rings of bright color, zoomed right against the screen… Makima was enraptured. Enough so that she genuinely flinched, before relaxing in her seat. The scene played out in front of her, slow flashes of color taking up her entire focus.
Part of Makima was suddenly concerned she had opened herself to weakness by viewing this villain as above her. The rest of her hardly had the mind to worry. Even as the scene passed, the hero getting rescued and the movie moving on for its climax, Makima remained in a daze. Even as the movie ended, Makima stumbling out of the theatre, she remained lightheaded. She never got lightheaded.
It would be ok. She simply had to keep a clear head, return home, and let it pass. Tune out the world around her. Tune out those two girls also coming out of the movie-
"Girl, am I crazy, or was that basically porn?"
That was basically porn. Something in Makima's mind tugged in an effort to make what had just happened her idea of 'porn.' Sexual pleasure from submission was shockingly difficult to fight against.
"No, no, I get what you mean. I was half expecting her to tell Goody to-" She snapped her fingers for emphasis. "Strip."
"Her name was Gouda, not Goody, silly!"
"Oh, you knowww I don't come into these things sober, Jocelyn."
"You know my name's Janice…"
"I wish it was Jocelyn."
Strip. Strip. Strip, strip, strip, strip. Makima couldn't stop herself from undoing her tie. Strip. Makima couldn't stop herself from kicking off her shoes. Strip. Makima could barely ensure that the next thing to go was her socks. Strip. Makima couldn't stop herself from pulling off her shirt. Strip. Makima couldn't help but pants herself.
The mantra crashing through her mind stopped. Apparently going down to her underwear felt like enough. Certainly, it was enough to be a problem- people were beginning to stare, even if those two girls were still obliviously chattering away. There was still time to pull her pants back up and run-
"Still, I do think they could've tapped into the comedy a bit more. Like, that girl should be clucking like a chicken or something, yaknow?"
She should be clucking like a chicken. No. She should be clucking like a chicken. No. She should be clucking like a chicken. She could not be seen acting so foolish. She should be clucking like a chicken. Her knees bent. She should be clucking like a chicken. Her arms folded at her sides like wings. She should be clucking like a chicken.
"Aha, you're craaazy… that would kinda get me going though."
"…Girl, you're crazy, what the-"
"BAWK!"
Both girls jumped, turning around to see the crowd that had formed around Makima, flapping around in her underwear with wide, dull eyes. "Bawk, ba-KAW!" She was loud, no part of her brain able to restrain itself. Some of the crowd looked on with concern as she stumbled around. Some stared with a blush. And some were just laughing with their phones pointed at the silly chicken lady. "Cluck, baawk, bakaa~aw!"
"Ohhh my god, Sara, let's get away from this-"
"Are you sure we… uh… shouldn't we stay and record it, haha…?"
"…You're lucky I'm such a good friend. Let's go add to your weirdo spankbank, girl."
With so many people recording this moment in Makima's life, brain warped by her own power… in a way, she was starring in a movie of her own.