dumbshow | probably not depressing

[He doesn't knock the bowl over, but he does nearly knock the bowl over. Some clumsy recovery goes on before he leans back again, shoving chips into his mouth and staring as Shoot scans through various movies.

When he stops on this one, Knuckle can only look baffled. Confused, like he might be missing something, he leans forward and squints, shoving the rest of his handful of chips into his mouth.]

Huh? What's this, swim class? [Yes, clearly, Knuckle, it is swim class. He gestures at the TV.] That doesn't look like horror action!

[Wow, sorry no one they know has a lookalike in this movie. Shoot looks at him briefly like he's a little personally offended at the criticism, then gestures at the screen with the remote as if that helps explain.]

It's someone drowning, are you blind? It says right there, 'A woman is haunted by visions of drowning and memories that aren't hers.'

[Yeah, there is no action in this film, this is definitely just a ghost movie. Maybe Knuckle will buy it anyway-!! (Dream big, Shoot.)]

That's- that's horror.

[Someone drowning. Memories that aren't hers? So she was invading someone's privacy? That's horrible! He doesn't want to watch something like that! And on top of that, there wasn't any sign of fighting!]

That just sounds depressing! Move on to another one. Two more tries.

[No, come on...]

But- [He thought it was interesting! It took him 3 whole minutes to reject a dozen movies and stop on this one, and everything. But he only sighs, looking back at his endless scrolling with less intense concentration than before. He'll maybe read only the first line of descriptions now, because

he is sulking? Ah? Eventually,]

This one? [UNENTHUSED... it probably looks more punchy than the last one, he doesn't know!!]

[On the one hand, Knuckle doesn't notice Shoot's sulking. It's like his face is no different from the face he was making just a second ago, so how should he know?! On the other hand, though, he doesn't immediately fall for a punchy movie.

In fact, he leans in in a very deep focus, reaching over blindly to find the chips and probably brushing against two different spots of Shoot's legs on the way there. He can't pull his eyes away from the screen.

He eats those chips, focusing even harder (like, way too intensely) and stroking his chin. Eventually, he snaps, except it doesn't really make a snapping noise because he gets the angle wrong in drunken clumsiness. He points at the screen, and then looks back to Shoot.]

This one's not the right kind of horror! You're not happy with it, right? [He looks so proud of himself.] It doesn't feel right! One more try!

[Shoot didn't actually intend to stop on this movie for too long- the more he does look closely at it, it seems really dull... but he gives Knuckle some time to weigh in on it. Or he wanted to, before Knuckle takes just long enough to be too long and keeps touching him while he does it.

Just say no, what— ah, he did. Shoot had been looking at him irritably, about to tell him to hurry it up, and now he looks a little surprised. Knuckle is actually paying attention...? Um, to him, that is-

And that thought is suddenly deeply embarrassing, so he looks down and says:] Stop eating all the chips before the movie.

[Nailed it. He scrolls through a bit more until he finds the world's most generic-sounding vampire movie, but one that definitely has a vampire being chased by someone holding a stake the size of their whole arm on the poster.

Surely that is action-y enough. This time he just nudges Knuckle with his elbow to tell him to check it out.]

This bowl is too small and I haven't eaten all day, shut up!

[Don't you dare try to oppress his chip eating, Shoot. He will eat those potato chips and he will like them.

The elbow nudging does eventually get him to look, though, and immediately he's pleased. A creepy monster thing, a giant stake, and somehow this seems more fitting! He points at the screen dramatically again, but this time he's grinning.]

That's it! That's the winner!

[He can't believe this is really the movie Knuckle chose. Actually he can, a little, which says something about one or both of them, probably.

Without any protest he holds the remote back out to Knuckle to deal with, at the same time trying to sort of... turn a little... so that he'll stop taking all the chips!! Shoot wants some chips, too, man! He, too, is starving.]

We don't have anything bigger than this. Go get the bag if you're that hungry. [And start this disaster of a film, already.]

Don't be so short! [He laughs, as if he's one to talk really, and sets the remote aside to stand up. Fine, he will go get the bag of chips. After a few stumbles across the room, apparently.

Two arms, and he has more trouble gathering the chips and bag of cookies he wants to bring over than Shoot did. He dumps them onto the table between the couch and the tv, plopping back down and snatching up the remote.

Buy annnnd watch!]

Here we go!

[Ah, there he goes. Shoot turns back to watch him with only some vague concern, because he would actually wobble over to peel Knuckle off the floor if he went down. He'd be on his own for picking up the snacks though.

BUT, time for this no doubt terrible movie. Shoot spends considerably more time carefully picking out which chips he wants to eat first than... watching the movie for about twenty movies of it. After that he leans forward to put the chip bowl on the table, and within the next five minutes he seems to have dozed off.

Quietly. And upright. He nods awake a few times, but not enough to catch most of this (terrible) film. Eventually he'll actually slump sideways onto Knuckle's shoulder, out like a light.

Great choice, buddy.]

[Knuckle, meanwhile, eats like all of the chips that Shoot didn't touch, half the cookies, and cries at the movie even before Shoot falls asleep. People keep dying or becoming vampires and losing their loved ones or dying more.

He does eventually notice that Shoot is asleep on him, and so he'll stop snacking (that's why the cookies are only half finished) and watch quietly, but he does cry a little more and eventually slip into sleep, slumped against the couch with his head leaning against Shoot's.

When he wakes up, the sun feels way too bright, even in this tiny little apartment, and his head is pounding. He groans, trying to sit up and temporarily forgetting that Shoot is slumped against him. But when he feels the weight slip away, he remembers--] Shit! [And leans forward to catch him, grimacing at the way his body rejects every single one of these movements.

Ah. They definitely drank too much.]

[Shoot stirs once or twice, mostly because falling asleep in this position is murder on his neck, but he never manages to move somehow - so when he wakes in the morning, it's at precisely the moment he seems to be falling.

Let the record show, falling even a short distance (so short it shouldn't even qualify as a fall) is much, much worse with a splitting headache and the usual disorientation of just waking up. Christ, he's even still dizzy—]

Wh- [The next noise he makes is a word that has not yet been invented, used to express regret and great pain and swear all at the same time. He can't even bear to sit back up, this is horrible. His mouth feels like he swallowed a bee and a lot of sand, but he manages to speak.]

My head's going to crack open. [GOOD MORNING.]

Tell me about it.

[It's a grumble of a response himself, even if he does feel bad about nearly dropping Shoot there. Sorry buddy. He's a lot more used to hangovers, probably, so he did think this out a little the night before!

He'd thought out ways to help him deal with the hangover, but he never thought to maybe have them drink water or eat along with it or anything helpful to avoid this.

He shifts Shoot carefully to prop him up against the pillows of the couch, looking a little nervous. He's usually dealt with these alone, not while helping someone else!]

Hang on, I'll get us some water.

[Shoot regrets so much, so so much. He's too blindsided by the throbbing in his head to start blaming anybody (but it's not his fault, for sure), and can only come up with a low, breathy kind of noise after he's leaned on the pillows. It's a noise of despair, so much that he's not even embarrassed about being moved around like a delicate- something. His head hurts too much to even think it through.

Water sounds heavenly. He might cry into it.

Ah, but after he closes his eyes to sit here and not look at light, he asks the important questions:]

Did you finish the movie?

...No.

[He's very curt in that reply, grabbing their two signature glasses (they probably each have their own and call that having dishes) and moving to the tap. The main vampire had been given just a fraction of a backstory, one that was supposed to make him seem even more horrible.

But Knuckle had found sympathy in it and cried himself to sleep. Now he was pretty upset-- he never got to see how it ended!

With the glasses full, he walks them over to the couch carefully. His own gets set down and then he carefully passes the other to Shoot with both hands.]

Here.

[Shoot hums, obviously still out of it.] Too bad.

[He can read the summary online... Shoot sits there quietly after that, listening to the sounds of Knuckle getting water. Mercifully not noises horrible enough to worsen his headache, although it seems like he might have fallen back asleep until he cracks an eye open to take the glass.]

Thanks. [He needs a couple seconds to look down at this water before he feels he can drink it without spilling it everywhere, then does; a hesitant sip followed by a much more appreciative gulp.

Ah, now what to say...]

Uh- Are you okay?

[He means Knuckle doesn't have to act not-miserable and take care of him, but hell if he can say that without fumbling it.]

Me?

[No. He's not okay. His head is splitting, the lights hurt his eyes, his throat hurts, his arms are strangely sore, he feels like he might puke at any moment-- But no way in hell is he going to say that!

He picks up his glass of water very carefully.]

I'm fine! You've seen how me and Morel get wasted. This is nothing! [This is horrible.] I'll recover in no time, so you just focus on feeling better! [Kill him. He'll be here, drinking down this water.]

[No, don't take care of him, he can't deal with it... This also all sounds very much like Knuckle trying to claim he wasn't crying over dogs at any given time, so. Well.

Obviously, he is full of it. Shoot looks at him evenly as he drinks more water.]

Knuckle... [stop??] You're being too loud.

[That's- okay, that's true, but he means it in a- in a way that's trying to help? No, this is stupid. He looks at his glass for conversational advice, then back up at Knuckle.]

Don't act cool when you're obviously not fine.

[... "cool"]

["Cool."]

Don't be stupid, idiot! I'm completely fine! I've got more experience, and--

[He chokes a little, spilling a bit of his water into his lap as he leans away from Shoot, covering his mouth with a free hand. Ah, please hold. An entire bag of chips and half a bag of cookies was not a good idea.

But he recovers, after a few seconds, looking grim.]

...And I'm fine, I'm not sick at all, asshole...

[Whoa there. Shoot's eyes widen slightly with definite concern - partly for the upholstery, don't throw up on the only couch - but he doesn't know what he should do...

He sighs, drinking another huge gulp of water. He feels like his skull's about to split like an egg and he's definitely dehydrated, but only eating a handful of chips seems to have done him more favors than Knuckle shoving food into his face so rapidly. Once he's emptied most of his glass of water he sets it on the table and scoots a little closer, peering.

The hangover makes him feel bold, maybe. Or the threat of being sick all over the floor.]

Shut up, you're not fine. [best pal award goes to] You should go to bed.

I'm not going to bed!

[GOD SHOOT. He waves off the man's concern, drinking another huge gulp of water (not a great idea) and letting that set after he gasps. With that out of the way, he sets his glass down and brushes himself off from any water droplets not already soaked in.

Then, he zooms in on Shoot.]

How're ya feeling? Aside from the headache. You sick at all? Hey, I could make some breakfast. I can, no problem!

[No?? Shoot's staring disapprovingly, determinedly right through his terrible headache

and the dizziness

and the dehydration, look— if Knuckle is going to pretend he's not about to puke everywhere, Shoot can pretend this headache isn't as bad as it is. Honestly, he doesn't look much different than usual other than being a few shades paler (somehow) and more tired.]

No. [That's for every one of those things Knuckle just said, in his tone like a scolding parent.] We can have breakfast later. Go to bed!

Stop nagging me, I'm not going to bed!

[He says that with a point at Shoot's chest, leaning closer to emphasize.]

Your yelling's just making it worse, cut it out! [It hurts his head?? He's hurting his own head.]

[Shoot won't back down!! (Well he will if Knuckle looks ready to puke, but not for anything else.) He leans closer himself, although careful not to knock their heads together because someone's head might really crack open then.]

I'm not yelling! [does he, ever] If you go to bed, I won't need to nag— you can get mad at me later!

[Maybe he should just go to bed and save them both the trouble of this argument... but he's pretty sure Knuckle would try to make breakfast and screw it up terribly in this state, so no. Compromise??] I can handle making breakfast.

This is your version of yelling, so cut it out! Like hell!!!

[He leans even closer, and their foreheads bump. Or at least Shoot's forehead will meet the bushy yet firm end of his hair. Somehow it held up after all that sleeping... Was it because he didn't move?]

If you get up, the whole room's gonna spin! If I go to bed, you're gonna go to bed, too! That's that!

LAUGHS

i have no icon of laughter, joy is dead

shoot is allergic to joy

this is why he only watches knuckle play with dogs

yes can't touch them lest he break out in a rash of happiness

a true tragedy

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