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As promised, Horace made his way to Micah's door. Well, perhaps not 'as promised', but he couldn't really make all those jokes about Micah yelling at him from afar and then not show up for an in-person bout. Or something. He'd grabbed a few things before coming over to pad his flimsy reasoning.

With a sharp rap, he knocked on Micah's door. "Hey, Micah, I'm here to make your life easier. Open up."

Horace snorted. "Very clever. I can think of much better uses for those fingers." And now he was trying to over-leer, to make it obvious that it was a joke.

"Aw, you didn't even hoarse up your voice for me. Disappointing." He huffed good-naturedly and then gestured to the laptop under one of his arms. It was a gift, of a sort, from one of the hunters in Belgium. The gift of being a stranger in the base, more or less.

But now, he would put it to good use. "So if you'd rather type, how about you put those fingers to good use and help me watch a movie?"

"Canadian money is plastic," he said, moving past Micah into his room. The room itself was given a quick glance, both out of undying curiosity (where were those manacles?) and a need to assess optimal movie watching sites. Eventually, he settled himself on Micah's bed, kicking off his shoes and tucking his feet up, cross-legged. The computer flicked on with a small hum and he absently hugged a pillow to his middle as it booted up.

All in all, Horace thought, Micah's room needed decoration. Or more shelves, or anything to suggest more than the ghost of a man lived inside. To be fair, his room wasn't much better. Despite living on the island for over a year, Horace had neglected to procure any sort of wall art for his windowless room. At least he had a better, bigger bed. He debated asking who the man in the photo was, but decided that was too much prying. He clicked around on the computer instead, bringing up the perfect movie. And then he waited.

When Micah returned, he made a pleased noise, stretching upwards to grab the chips and soda. "Cola is a-ok." Horace almost knocked the laptop off his lap and caught it as it started to slide. Tucking the snacks against his side, he patted the bed next to him as if this were his own bed and Micah was the guest. (It was kind of rude, he figured, but he really didn't want to watch a movie while sitting on the concrete floor.)

"I found the best movie for us to watch. What do you think?" He jerked his thumb at the screen, where the menu for NIGHT OF THE TENTACLES XXX flickered brightly. It was clearly a questionable film.

"Hey, it's educational!"

Horace's hand flew up to cover his mouth in a sad attempt to stifle the childish giggling that threatened to erupt out of him. He managed, sort of, instead breaking into soundless laughter. Holding up his free hand, he struggled to quell it. But really - his a**? Of all the things to say, Horace had not expected Micah to pop out with that. Where did he think tentacles went, anyway?

"That's-" His shoulders shook and he sucked in air. "T-that's exactly the spirit, Micah!" A uncontrolled snort and Horace whispered the word 'a**' before nearly dissolving into laughter again. Luckily, he won out against his gigglefit. "So, should I start at the beginning or skip to the good parts?"

The stiffness and discomfit was kind of cute, in a way. It was these sort of reactions that made Horace want to keep prodding. "Well, we should vote on what to watch. Ask Nova if she wants to watch Night of the Tentacles XXX. This is a democracy after all." Horace held onto the laptop and began scooting back, pressing his back was against the wall. If there had been enough room, he would have sprawled out (and if he had been watching movies with Hattie he would have sprawled out anyway), but it was cramped enough and Micah was stiff enough with bumping bits of his body against the other man.