dumbshow | probably not depressing

[Clink! Both of theirs spill a little. Oh well.]

Angel face.

[Every time he says that, it gets worse. It's a mystery as to why. He laughs, squeezing Shoot's shoulder.]

I don't know, are you sure you can take anymore? I don't even think you're frowning. [That could be a big lie, he's just teasing.]

[It sure does, but at least the drink itself - what isn't spilling, how untoward of them - is alright. Shoot's already trying to make sense of the drink list again, because he's Trying, when Knuckle goes on.]

I'm not on the floor- [said as he looks to the side again, blinking rapidly as the room suddenly lurches from doing it too fast. Okay, he's not on the floor because he's being held up—he'll admit that to himself only.

Knuckle could stand to shut up about his face, though; now he's frowning. And on top of that, he's taking these comments as permission to give up on this part of the 'fun.']

Fine, I want to go home.

[But less petulant than that sounded.]

That means I win!

[Knuckle made it a competition anyway. It ended on his drink, so he wins. He takes another long drink from angel face there and then slides it away. Reaching into his pocket, he'll slap down some large bill to cover their tabs and a tip, pointing at Shoot's last drink.]

You can finish that first or we can leave now, your pick!

[wHAT]

[God, he's boggling at Knuckle again. This wasn't for a win, don't be so- Knuckle!!

This lasts another few seconds before he sighs and tips back some of what's left of this drink... It's at the point where tilting his head back to drink makes him feel like he's about to topple over backwards that he gives up and abandons the rest.

Ah, getting up though. He thinks of and then soundly rejects actually asking Knuckle not to suddenly let go of him or anything and uses him as a prop to wobble to his feet. Yes. He's got this. He can still walk!!]

Come on.

[Knuckle finally reveals a bit of wobbling himself when he hops off to his feet. How long has it been? He doesn't remember when they started, or how many drinks they ended up ordering... Oh well.

His arm slings around his friend so they could offer mutual support, and therefore balance, and he heads for the door while laughing under his breath.]

Come on?? You come on, look at you. [Wobbling. Shoot's wobbling.]

[Mutual support, aside from Shoot being a head taller and having to stoop- he's balanced enough, but don't be surprised if he stumbles every now and then. He resents having his wobbling pointed out, despite how obvious it is.]

Speak for yourself. Are you drunk?

[Is anyone not drunk? Is the sidewalk actually moving by itself?? Shoot really should have eaten lunch, he thinks, and not chugged a bunch of stupid drinks.]

Of course not, f... fool!

[He forgot the word for a second, but look. He hasn't eaten either, woops. That dog took up a lot of his time, it turns out.] Just tipsy. You're the one making me wobble around all over.

[That's a lie, this is mutual contribution.]

Is this the right way?

I'm not. [His wobbling might be more pronounced, only because he apparently cannot hold his liquor as well. But shush.

He actually has to look up from the independently moving sidewalk at that last comment and frown ahead, ah.]

Are you taking us back the way we came? [he honestly isn't sure] Should we- should we get a cab?

You are.

[But oh, that last question. He slows to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk, ignoring anyone nearby who might throw them irritated glances and walk around. Because... Hm, he's not sure.

And maybe normally he'd stubbornly find the way, but he's tired and wants to go watch horror movies with fight scenes.]

It'll be easier on your leg, too! [Let's go with that. He shifts them over to a lightpost, tapping it so that Shoot can get the hint and lean on that while he flags down a cab or something.]

[Oh, they're stopping. Shoot mutters out one last 'I'm not' as he tries to shift his weight so that he doesn't need to lean so much on Knuckle. Here in the middle of the sidewalk.

Being deposited against a lightpost is too embarrassing for him to think about while full of this much alcohol so he just slumps there, shutting his eyes to stave off the wobbling feelings a little.

He will force himself to look more alive when they get in the cab, if only to give the driver a destination because Knuckle clearly has no idea where they are!! Just let him sit here in and out of dizziness and then haul him out, great plan, glad he thought of it.]

[Waving down a cab goes about as expected. That is to say, a couple pass when Knuckle looks like a typical drunk just trying to mess around instead of pay for an actual ride, and he yells after them in anger. Shakes his fists after them, nearly rips off his shirt--

And oh, another cab finally stops for them to get in. Knuckle is muttering something like about damn time when he gestures for Shoot to come on, hobble over this way and he'll catch him and walk him the rest of the way.

It's a great plan.

Whenever they do manage to get in the cab, Knuckle leans against the door pretty quickly, leaving Shoot to answer the cab driver's question of 'Where to?']

[If Shoot weren't in a state over here, he'd be obligated to tell Knuckle to calm the hell down. As it so happens, he'd much rather someone actually stop so he can hobble around and eventually make it to a couch at home and stop hobbling for a while. This is Shoot's great plan.

He'll just instruct this driver to go to wherever they live?? Whatever??? And then he sinks back in the seat, eyes closed again. He's not a very fun drunk companion when it comes to moving around, sorry...

When they finally get there he'll handle the fare and then, embarrassed even though it's like the third time now-] Knuckle.

Give me a hand again.

[Knuckle gets out first and goes around, leaning on the trunk for a few minutes in some sort of a laughing fit before he makes it to Shoot's door and hears him out. That just sets off some more laughter.]

But you already have four.

[GET IT...... He laughs and leans in to help him, only to fall across his lap. Give him a minute.]

[Shoot is too miserydrunk for this... He stares up at Knuckle like there's no reply to that he could give that isn't going to make both of them angry- and then Knuckle falls over on him.

This cab driver is very patient, bless his soul.]

You are drunk. [Thank you, Shoot. He tugs on the back of Knuckle's collar a little, like that will help him get up. Come on...]

Hell no I'm not! I'm appreciating my time with you, shut up!

[What does that have to do with anything? It makes sense in his mind, though, and at the collar tugs, he pulls back just enough to scoop his arms under Shoot's arm, and then his knees.

He sure is picking him up. It must be a terrifying first few seconds where he wobbles out of the car and kicks the door closed, but after that, he seems... relatively stable. Despite the height difference.]

See? Who's drunk, now! [NOT HIM. He's marching towards their house or apartment or whatever it is.]

[Shoot doesn't comprehend what's about to happen here until it's too late and he's being picked up. This isn't what he asked for at all- he could handle mutual slouching but not being carried. It's all he can do to clutch at Knuckle's collar until he's more sure he's not about to meet pavement.

Not that it would be the first time. But let's not make that into a pattern. And let's call it an apartment for convenience's sake!! Onward to the apartment.

Shoot's brain will catch up with his embarrassment in a moment - he's definitely crimson, what the hell, Knuckle.]

This is the most drunk you've ever been! [no, it definitely isn't.]

You're just shy, Shoot!

[He laughs at that, too, stumbling a bit when he gets closer, but again, catching himself. How exciting this ride must be. When it comes to getting in through the door, he can at least buzz them in with his foot and push through doors backwards, and then there's an elevator.

Second floor here they come!]

This isn't drunk! My BAC couldn't be over .09%, not a chance! Maybe if I had a few more... [Then he'd beat his record?? His record is far from this.]

[He has no defense for that, it's not wrong, despite how being carried around bridal style has little to do with regular shyness!! It's- this is so-!! Humiliating and potentially dangerous, given the stumbling. He only has one arm to hold on tighter with, be careful.

Thankfully there's no one else out and about to witness this... He's glad, again, that they didn't invite Morel. Perish the thought.]

Don't- don't do math about being drunk. [stop. you. stop.

This elevator ride is the longest of his life. He wastes half of it wondering if he should demand to be put down but then thinks Knuckle would pick him up again anyway at the end, and- then he spends the other half just being generally embarrassed, then makes a noise of pointed discomfort when the elevator lurches to a halt at the right floor. Too much alcohol, too much moving, bury him here.]

[More laughing at that.]

I'll do math whenever the hell I wanna do math! [He finds this amusing, too, apparently.] By the way, you're heavier than you look.

[That counts as math. But look, the door's open, and Knuckle is heading out. He'll finally let Shoot drop to his feet when he has to dig through his pockets for the key to the door-- but he'll keep one arm around him the whole time. Perfect.]

[At least one of them is having fun...]

I'm taller than you. [As much sense as that makes as an argument. He might be spindly, but he's also obnoxiously tall, so that- is why?? Stop mathing him. And he's glad to get his feet back on the ground, as much as that makes him kind of dizzy as well - he has to hold onto Knuckle's collar still, urgh.

It sure would be nice if he could move much by himself without faceplanting onto the floor right now! Please leave him on a couch, he'll stare meaningfully at one as soon as they hobble inside.]

I accounted for that already, idiot!

[RUDE??? But anger hardly seems to last, right now, and he ushers them inside and shuts the door sloppily. Luckily for Shoot, they are headed right for the couch.

Unfortunately for Shoot, Knuckle kind of drops him onto it. It's an accident. He's busy looking around the apartment.]

Hey, wait a second, where's Mel... Meleoron? [Does he live with them?? Or just hang out??? It's a mystery but Knuckle thought he'd be here and he hasn't popped out yet.]

[Point for the couch, immediately withdrawn for dropping him. Shoot lands with an oof, and while it's a very uncomfortable few seconds after that while he adjusts to falling gracelessly, he manages to get himself totally upright.

And where is Mel-meleoron, good question... Shoot looks around as much as he can, half-heartedly and from the couch.]

He must not be here. [Why would he hide from them, after all. They're pals!! He cries as much as they do!] Are we waiting for him?

Not a chance! [Snooze you lose! Maybe he's off meeting lizard ladies, they just don't know. So, grabbing the remote from wherever it's shoved, he squeezes himself onto the couch beside Shoot. Maybe too close. He's misjudged personal space here.]

It's his loss for running off! Let's see heeeeere... [I'll have you know he's rolling all his r's.] Horror and action, horror and action... Hey, do you know any like that?

[How many lizard ladies are out there?? Shoot hums, and doesn't actually object to being stuck to on the couch. Ordinarily he might object to continuously bumping into Knuckle, but it's sort of-

and he definitely won't be saying this out loud-

it's sort of helping him ignore how out of it he feels the exact way being carried around the building didn't. It's okay- it's just fine, in fact.

On the other hand, he's not paying any attention to the movie selection at all until he's prompted.]

Um- no, I don't think so. [He almost follows that with "try something with monsters," buuut maybe not, after NGL. No. Instead,] Try something with... killers?

[or pick a title at random and pray, but]

Killers... [He laughs, for some reason, pulling up the menu to type in some search words. He'd probably have some fancy program like this, so.] Killers are pretty common.

[From the results that all just popped up, yes, thank you. He leans into Shoot a little, nudging at him with the remote before pointing back to the screen.]

Hey, look at this poster. [For the movie on screen, which is showcasing a woman covered in blood, with long black hair, wielding about six knives at once.] It's Palm.

knuckle stares in horror, asks if he changed his hairstyle

is that really the biggest concern knuckle

look he's had alcohol too

that's no excuse

shhhhHHH

oh

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