"Have you ever in your entire time in this place, even once, seen any art or whatever that was actually good and not some form of awful somehow?" He asks. Then without waiting for an answer, he says, "No. And that is how I know these are awful. Because only by being so bad would they show up here."
Even if they roll with being shoved again, Nekane waves a hand. As if what they're going to say isn't loaded.
"Bah. You're here so good things do come to this shithole." And just as quickly, they move on. "Besides, we're talking about your tastes in things. Which if I recall correctly - and I never fucking forget - was shit. So there."
They shove back again. But this time they also try to bury under the covers so they don't get shoved again.
First, they blindside him with what is clearly a compliment. The nerve. Then, they insult his taste.
"Oh no, you get back here..."
They try and squirm away but he's reaching, pulling them back out, this damned burrowing creature. At the least, he can burrow with them and, whatever the result, but his hands on his hips.
"You've scrambled something because my taste is just fine!" Ignoring... a fair portion of his former friends... "But even if it wasn't! I can tell what's awful! And this excuse for a theatrical film is awful."
Nekane does their best to not get pulled out and only half succeeds, mainly because they don't want to bring the chairs down on Héctor. He can put himself back together, sure, but neither of them want to find out what would happen to any bones that snap clean in half.
And they could point out his shit tastes in friends or that by loving them, his tastes were even worse. But that's a low blow on both accounts and the latter would just start up that old conversations.
"So says the guy I've caught reading my romance books. All of them."
Perhaps not more of the cursed ones - and caught may be a strong word here - but it still stands. Somehow.
"Yeah, they are." Although Nekane isn't picky when it came to books and absolutely would have read them even if it was shit. "But most of the movies were pretty shit. Hold on..."
They uncover themself a little more to check their pile of terrible movies and come up with a few. Fifty Shades Of Grey and Twilight. The first goes in and they start it up.
"Keep in mind this shit was popular enough to get a movie. And that some idiot thought it was hot."
And they lean back to watch it play out. Right after that they're starting up Twilight and Héctor can't stop them.
He can already tell, by the gleeful look in their eyes, that this is going to be terrible. Even before they say the movies are shit. He leaning back as they hold them up like the things might come to life and bight at him.
He can't see anything outright terrible from the cover, or the titles, but that means nothing.
"I don't trust popular. You know I don't trust popular. I've seen the things popular will do," He says.
But even they can't put up with these movies for so long, even if they're enjoying Héctor's reactions to it. Nekane re-buries themself under the blankets and only comes back up to drag a few snacks into the depths.
"I'm gonna blame the existence of Hell on these movies. Sounds good?"
This might be the part where he'd call them a monster, but they'd take that for truth so instead he just narrows his eyes and shakes his head at them. Terrible. The worst.
And when they slip away he says, "Hey!" and tries to burrow in after them. They don't get to run away while he's suffering! Rude.
Once he's successfully burrowed under with them, he snorts.
"Pretty sure Hell existed before these nightmares," He says. "But sure, yes."
Nekane snickers and finally takes pity on Héctor by changing the movie to something different. This time the acting isn't that bad - cringe, mainly - but for a romantic comedy movie, it's sure missing the comedy part with the onslaught of terrible jokes.
"Hard to say. Chicken, egg. Hell, shit movies. Who can really say which came first?" Yes, they are treating this like deep philosophy. It's actually a repeat of a conversation they engaged with John, once upon a time. They couldn't sleep so it was one of many times they both engaged in a really stupid conversation until the sun rose.
Under the blankets they reach for his hand to hold onto. "Thanks, by the way. For going along with this shit."
In truth, they didn't need to change the movie. He paid enough attention to be baffled at times or to rib Nekane a little. But, just as before, he spends much more time observing them, enjoying their company with something they enjoyed.
He rolls his eyes, pretending to be exasperated by their flawed philosophical logic. It doesn't truly bother him and it's probably obvious when they take his hand. Something sings in his ribcage. Something weeps.
"It's your shit," He says. "I like seeing you enjoy things."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
"Have you ever in your entire time in this place, even once, seen any art or whatever that was actually good and not some form of awful somehow?" He asks. Then without waiting for an answer, he says, "No. And that is how I know these are awful. Because only by being so bad would they show up here."
Then, he shoves back.
no subject
"Bah. You're here so good things do come to this shithole." And just as quickly, they move on. "Besides, we're talking about your tastes in things. Which if I recall correctly - and I never fucking forget - was shit. So there."
They shove back again. But this time they also try to bury under the covers so they don't get shoved again.
no subject
"Oh no, you get back here..."
They try and squirm away but he's reaching, pulling them back out, this damned burrowing creature. At the least, he can burrow with them and, whatever the result, but his hands on his hips.
"You've scrambled something because my taste is just fine!" Ignoring... a fair portion of his former friends... "But even if it wasn't! I can tell what's awful! And this excuse for a theatrical film is awful."
no subject
And they could point out his shit tastes in friends or that by loving them, his tastes were even worse. But that's a low blow on both accounts and the latter would just start up that old conversations.
"So says the guy I've caught reading my romance books. All of them."
Perhaps not more of the cursed ones - and caught may be a strong word here - but it still stands. Somehow.
no subject
He opens his mouth. Then he closes it. Then he opens it again.
"What's wrong with the romance books?" He nearly pouts. "I thought they were nice..."
no subject
They uncover themself a little more to check their pile of terrible movies and come up with a few. Fifty Shades Of Grey and Twilight. The first goes in and they start it up.
"Keep in mind this shit was popular enough to get a movie. And that some idiot thought it was hot."
And they lean back to watch it play out. Right after that they're starting up Twilight and Héctor can't stop them.
no subject
He can't see anything outright terrible from the cover, or the titles, but that means nothing.
"I don't trust popular. You know I don't trust popular. I've seen the things popular will do," He says.
The movie starts. He keeps making a face.
Finally, he says, "Why are you doing this to me."
no subject
But even they can't put up with these movies for so long, even if they're enjoying Héctor's reactions to it. Nekane re-buries themself under the blankets and only comes back up to drag a few snacks into the depths.
"I'm gonna blame the existence of Hell on these movies. Sounds good?"
Because it sure does to them.
no subject
And when they slip away he says, "Hey!" and tries to burrow in after them. They don't get to run away while he's suffering! Rude.
Once he's successfully burrowed under with them, he snorts.
"Pretty sure Hell existed before these nightmares," He says. "But sure, yes."
no subject
"Hard to say. Chicken, egg. Hell, shit movies. Who can really say which came first?" Yes, they are treating this like deep philosophy. It's actually a repeat of a conversation they engaged with John, once upon a time. They couldn't sleep so it was one of many times they both engaged in a really stupid conversation until the sun rose.
Under the blankets they reach for his hand to hold onto. "Thanks, by the way. For going along with this shit."
no subject
He rolls his eyes, pretending to be exasperated by their flawed philosophical logic. It doesn't truly bother him and it's probably obvious when they take his hand. Something sings in his ribcage. Something weeps.
"It's your shit," He says. "I like seeing you enjoy things."