Special Effects
Jun. 27th, 2020 02:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seleniasTitle: Special Effects
Fandom: Natsume Yuujinchou
Characters/pairing: Natori/Matoba, established
Rating: gen
Word Count: 387
-
Matoba punched the pause button on the remote. Natori was watching from the kitchen, arms crossed.
“That’s a stunt double,” Matoba says.
“Nooo. Should have been though.”
Matoba replays the scene in his head, the actor shuffling along the rooftop and doing a sick kick off the dumpster below without breaking a single bone. “It’s all CG effects. We swing around on ropes on a green screen. It’s an annoying harness to get into though, you’d think we were setting out to rock climb.”
“Carabiners included?”
“Big ones. With screws.”
“Hm.”
The microwave in the kitchen sung a tune, and a yelp followed when Natori presumably grabbed the wrong end of the bag.
Matoba contemplated what mundane lives people lead that allowed them the fictitious delight of superhuman strengths. The real thing was a lot less coordinated, a lot more deadly. Somehow there was less mystery with ghouls and monsters with big teeth than whatever this was.
He slipped a hand between the buttons on his shirt and pressed his thumb into the aching bruise of his sternum, loosened the tight wrapping. Maybe he should have followed this guy’s lead.
“Hey.” Natori suddenly swatted at him, popcorn bowl in hand. “Leave that alone.”
He ignored him and traced its pattern. Low chance of dodging such a chest blow, in reality. He had a sharp mouth and strong arm; not really an acrobatic kind of guy. His attempt had been pathetic. The back of his head met concrete and the clansmen threw a fuss big enough to rouse the dead. They even cancelled a meeting. Unheard of.
Natori dropped too firmly on the couch, nearly dislodging him. “It’s not going to heal any faster if you mess with it. Stop agitating it.”
“It’s not painful.”
“Not yet. You’ll be unhappy in the morning.”
Matoba reached over for popcorn. “This film would be better with a little more gore. He should have broken his leg from that height. Splintered it.”
“Spoil-sport,” Natori muttered. “You pick the film next time.”
Matoba hit the play button. Natori threw his heavy cast on the coffee table. His eyes slanted. He was grateful Natori sat on his right. Kernels stuck in his teeth, Natori narrated the scene to him, explaining the mechanics. He half-listened.
He knew what world Natori was better off in.
Fandom: Natsume Yuujinchou
Characters/pairing: Natori/Matoba, established
Rating: gen
Word Count: 387
-
Matoba punched the pause button on the remote. Natori was watching from the kitchen, arms crossed.
“That’s a stunt double,” Matoba says.
“Nooo. Should have been though.”
Matoba replays the scene in his head, the actor shuffling along the rooftop and doing a sick kick off the dumpster below without breaking a single bone. “It’s all CG effects. We swing around on ropes on a green screen. It’s an annoying harness to get into though, you’d think we were setting out to rock climb.”
“Carabiners included?”
“Big ones. With screws.”
“Hm.”
The microwave in the kitchen sung a tune, and a yelp followed when Natori presumably grabbed the wrong end of the bag.
Matoba contemplated what mundane lives people lead that allowed them the fictitious delight of superhuman strengths. The real thing was a lot less coordinated, a lot more deadly. Somehow there was less mystery with ghouls and monsters with big teeth than whatever this was.
He slipped a hand between the buttons on his shirt and pressed his thumb into the aching bruise of his sternum, loosened the tight wrapping. Maybe he should have followed this guy’s lead.
“Hey.” Natori suddenly swatted at him, popcorn bowl in hand. “Leave that alone.”
He ignored him and traced its pattern. Low chance of dodging such a chest blow, in reality. He had a sharp mouth and strong arm; not really an acrobatic kind of guy. His attempt had been pathetic. The back of his head met concrete and the clansmen threw a fuss big enough to rouse the dead. They even cancelled a meeting. Unheard of.
Natori dropped too firmly on the couch, nearly dislodging him. “It’s not going to heal any faster if you mess with it. Stop agitating it.”
“It’s not painful.”
“Not yet. You’ll be unhappy in the morning.”
Matoba reached over for popcorn. “This film would be better with a little more gore. He should have broken his leg from that height. Splintered it.”
“Spoil-sport,” Natori muttered. “You pick the film next time.”
Matoba hit the play button. Natori threw his heavy cast on the coffee table. His eyes slanted. He was grateful Natori sat on his right. Kernels stuck in his teeth, Natori narrated the scene to him, explaining the mechanics. He half-listened.
He knew what world Natori was better off in.
