[Adrian stays put across the room for a handful of seconds, watching as Rosso sort of deflates in front of him. He hates that it has to be an ultimatum, that they're just out here waiting for their turn to die in some fantastically horrible fashion only for the cycle to repeat itself. If fate were kind and not cruel, Adrian would have gotten immediate karma for what he did in the Wastelands. Mukuro's spear would not have missed something vital, and that would have been that.
But if being here has taught Adrian anything, it's that if he died- even for a short period- there are people who would be looking for him. Left behind, wondering after his safety and wellbeing, and that is not something he's experienced since he was a very young child.
He had to think to understand why seeing Rosso's lost compass bothered him so bad. He didn't even have to speculate, he just...knew that Rosso had been killed. There's no way he would have just dropped something that important to him. Then, hearing that he'd been killed, brutally. It set off something in him that he hasn't felt since losing Misha. That blind, overwhelming terror that it's happening again.
His chest heaves a little, as all of a sudden it feels like he can't quite take a full breath. Smoke trails through the gaps in his fangs, but no fire ever comes. He just stands there, stupidly, having a crisis in his head as the silence between them stretches on.
Eventually, he slowly pads forward, but he doesn't move to sit on the couch next to Rosso like a normal person might. Instead, he sinks in front of him, thudding heavily to his knees. He's tall enough that they're still mostly eye-to-eye, Rosso maybe a few inches above him still sitting but not by much.
Then, without...really any preamble or warning, he leans in so he can pull the Werewolf into a hug. His paws grip him tight, firm but not unyielding, one pressed against his shoulder while the other rests in an awkward place between his neck and the back of his head, like he's not sure where exactly it should go.]
Ordinarily, Rosso would immediately jerk away. Complain. Bemoan the sudden contact and yell and make a fuss simply because he's Rosso and he doesn't need sympathy or warmth or help. Doesn't deserve it. Too dangerous to have it. Whatever excuses he could possibly spew, they die on his tongue because it's Adrian.
He barely has time to squeeze out a surprised squeak. One second, he's sitting there minding his own business, next thing he knows Adrian is crouched in front of him, and now there are paws firm and stalwart on him.
Internally, he's screaming. Not for angry reasons. Just for "how dare you make my feelings for you worse" reasons. For "how dare you care" reasons.
Rosso hesitates for a slow moment, hands hovering over Adrian's shoulders. Maybe he's hallucinating this. His tired brain is making shit up, obviously, it's not like Adrian would ever give him a hug.
...
Arms wind their way around Adrian's neck, fingers tangling with his mane. One shaky exhale later, all Rosso can say is,]
[There are very few people Adrian cares about, or that's what he would say if confronted directly about it. He hates people, generally, and would much rather be left alone. It's only by the perserverance of a select few that they've managed to break his walls down to uncover what's hidden beneath. And what is hidden there is someone who never had the chance to have a proper life. No real childhood, no real rest. Constantly pushing and fighting to survive and for what? Just himself. He's the only person he's ever had.
At least until he came here. Until he met some of the most annoying people to ever live, yet somehow realize that he's not sure what he'd do without them.
Rosso, who he actually hated when they first met because of how much it was like looking at himself in a mirror, is now one of those people. For all his griping and grousing, he would protect him with his life and do so willingly. Quite the huge change from Adrian's motto following the loss of Misha: fuck you, got mine. Because he rarely ever gets his. There's no room then for kindness or leniency.
He doesn't retort for once, actually staying silent as Rosso returns the embrace. He's feels so small, so fragile, even though he knows the Were is anything but. At least this time, if something happens, he won't be feeling regrets.
Adrian's ears fall back, low and nearly completely hidden against his mane, as he exhales on a chuffing sound against Rosso's shoulder. It's not a purr, but more of a lion-sound of contentment.]
Whatever the hell happens now, you're stuck with me. Even if you hate it, I ain't gonna not be there to back you up anymore. Don't forget that.
Rosso clings. It's incredibly unlike him — he lives alone, after all, so who could he possibly cling to? — but he finds comfort in the embrace despite himself. The logical part of his brain wonders if this hug has gone on for too long. Aren't hugs supposed to last for a few seconds? Rosso wouldn't know; no one's ever hugged him before. At least not like this.
Perhaps the hatred when they first met was mutual. Rosso had been overcome with fury on his arrival, kicking out car windshields and getting into random fights because that's who he is as a person. Adrian's presence had been entirely unwelcome at the time, snarky and superior-sounding as he'd been. Then, Rosso found him mangled by his own transformation in an alleyway, and all bets were off. Much as he despised it at the time, he started to care. The more they ran into each other, the more he started to care. Ribbing each other on the internet and confessing how much his life sucked and going to the amusement park, having Adrian basically come to his rescue in the maze, getting plastered in the Fog caves and making him dinner and braiding flowers into his hair—
Ugh. Gross, is that sentimentality? How the mighty fall and all that.
If Adrian thinks he feels small, Rosso can echo the sentiment; being hugged by the giant manticore is reminding him that he's absolutely tiny. Normally, that would bother him — it's usually On Sight for people who tease him about his height, something he's always been touchy about — but somehow, he's feeling weirdly secure. "Weirdly" except it's not actually that strange of an occurrence, given everything that's built up to this exact moment. It isn't as though Rosso has ever felt a sense of security in his life.
He hums briefly, contemplatively, and then decides... fuck it. He has something to say.]
...I didn't ever tell you my first name. Did I? [...] I guess I trust you enough to use it now, if you want. It's "Ainen".
[Though, he thinks if he actually heard Adrian use it, he might just die on the spot.]
[Normally, a hug would not be lasting this long, no. But Adrian isn't a hugger, and has not regularly hugged many people, so he also doesn't really know what he's supposed to do here. And he does remember that when Maya hugged him that one time he actually returned it...it lasted a little bit. And it was nice, even though he hadn't admitted to it at the time.
Plus, he feels like he really needs to make up for shoving both feet in his mouth by coming into Rosso's apartment and screaming at him for dying. It hasn't really been a good look for him.]
Tell me somethin' I don't know.
[He murmurs, rolling his eyes where Rosso won't be able to see. It's about that moment that he realizes that Rosso's hands are in his mane, but it's fine. They can be there, it's fineeeeeee-
He's about to draw back finally when Rosso's next admission interrupts him, his mouth half open for a second as what he says sinks in.]
......is that s'posed to be some kinda anagram for "Adrian"?
[Nevermind, Rosso's slightly romantic feelings for Adrian have died, bye, get out of his apartment.
He doesn't really break the hug so much as he leans back in shock at that, like of all the things to possibly fucking say, that's what this fucking moron has? This is what his day has become now? You come into his house to give him his missing compass back, yell at him for dying, embrace him, and now this?? In front of his salad—
"Sitting back" doesn't mean his arms aren't still around Adrian's neck and that his hands aren't still tangled in his mane; he's simply giving them enough space so he can flatly look Adrian dead in the eye while he musters all the sarcasm in the world right now.]
Yes, that's it, you fucking got me, congratulations. By the El, you're the dumbest motherfucker in the universe.
[(Still affectionate)
He rolls his eye. Behind him, there's an unmistakable wag in his tail as part of him finds some humour in the situation, much as he wants to pretend he doesn't. If he weren't feeling so grossly fond of Adrian by the point that was said, he might've bonked the manticore over the head and kicked him out.
It probably says something about the current state of their friendship that he doesn't go that route.]
I'm five hundred fucking years older than you, so isn't your name an anagram of mine?
[Adrian knows that Rosso giving him his first name is a big deal, but honestly it's because it's such a big deal that he immediately went to saying something stupid about it, because...like...how else do you react??? He had no idea that he was calling him by anything else this whole time, so to hear it like he's been let in on some special secret is just...
It's too much. It's short circuited his brain and he has to cope by being an idiot.
The good news is that Rosso reacts pretty much exactly how he thought he would, which causes Adrian's tail to curl behind him as he grins back at the other, cheeky and all teeth.]
Oh yeah. I almost forgot you were a grandpa, grandpa.
[Honestly... he wants that to come out more intimidating than it does. A little more spite or vitriol or something, but it doesn't do that. It comes out playfully. Horrifyingly so.
There's that plus the internal horror of the fact that he's just casually slipped in a term of endearment there, because Rosso is extremely heterosexual today apparently — ooh boy. Hey, you know what, he'd like to go be emotionless now. That's surely something he can do. Just trade all the fire and rage and gross unmentionable feelings in for... like a new monster form or something. Mana accepts emotions as currency right? No?
Undeterred by his slip-up, he attempts, poorly, to cover it up.]
Didn't anybody teach you to respect your elders?! [grrr please voice sound angrier, he's begging]
[It's a good thing Adrian has absolutely no clue what that means. As far as he knows, it was some attempt at a word that didn't come out right because Rosso was too angy, which...is common, so he's going to just assume that.]
Haaah? The fuck you even sayin' anymore?
[He lifts one of his big paws and just...drops it on top of Rosso's head, deliberately working it around so he can muss up his hair good. God, he loves fucking with him so much, it's fun.]
Yeah okay, I'll respect you when you stop yappin' at me like a puppy. It's cute.
[Rosso chooses not to answer that question goodbye he has passed away—
He audibly groans (scream-groans) (it's very loud) when Adrian starts to ruffle his hair. It's so long, please, if you tangle it you're gonna be the one brushing it you fucking punk-ass bitch—
...
CUTE?!]
I—!
[Rosso.exe has stopped working.]
F...fuck off! I'm not fuckin' cute—!
[HE'S SCARY AS FUCK :(]
Don't fucking tease me, fuck you, I'll kick your ass!
[Face as red as his hair. Good job, Adrian, you got him.]
[Okay now he's just asking for it, but this is like...easy. It's familiar. He'd rather be goading Rosso into snapping at him than confronting the reality of their respective mortality. It's easier to cope when you spin it into something ridiculous, which seems to be the method of attack here.
That, and he's still trying to shake off feeling all...sentimental after that hug. He can't do sentiment, he's allergic.]
[Rosso is also allergic to sentiment and at this specific moment in time, he suddenly wishes he were allergic to cats so he could yell at Adrian to get the fuck out of his apartment and let him fester in peace. Except he also doesn't want to do that, either.
They're still kind of grossly wrapped around each other in some ways — Rosso's fingertips never really left Adrian's mane. He could be a dick and pull it like a grade schooler, but the little werewolf is slightly more mature than that (source needed). Spurned on by the comment, Rosso chooses to make it somewhat physical, finally untangling his fingers from Adrian's fur and instead settling them on his shoulders.
Acting entirely on impulse, he hooks his legs around Adrian's waist from where the manticore is crouched, and with hardly any effort on his part, Rosso pushes his full weight forward to send them both careening to the ground between the sofa and coffee table. Triumphantly, he sits on Adrian's stomach, arms crossed, like he doesn't weigh five pounds soaking wet and couldn't easily be thrown off by the larger monster.]
Try me, brat.
[5 seconds until Rosso realises that he's the architect of his own doom.]
[Since Adrian had already technically been on the floor, it won't be difficult at all for Rosso to use his weight against him, rocking him backwards and sending them both down onto the floor. He falls flat on his back on the carpet with enough force to cause the coffee table to rattle near his head, his paws lifted up like a startled red-pands in front of him. He looks back up at Rosso owlishly, eyes wide and unblinking as he perches there on his stomach, accomplished. He's small enough comparitively that Adrian barely registers the weight, but it's more...the principle of the thing.
...and it sets off an instinct, one that makes Adrian growl, deep and long, in the back of his throat.]
S'that a challenge?
[He huffs, his nose wrinkling at the way he sounds breathless when he says that, like he'd just run a marathon. His tail has little room to move, but if he weren't stuck between the couch and table, it would be whipping around like crazy as he leans back...and attempts to get his back feet wedged up underneath Rosso so he can bunny kick push him off. He doesn't have his lion legs yet (that comes in a couple days), so it's a little awkward, but it comes with Adrian moving to try to sit up so he can plant his paws against Rosso's chest as he flips their positions, attempting to wrestle him down until he's pinned.]
[Normally, Rosso would be harder to shake, on account of being literally one of the strongest motherfuckers on Elrios. Normally doesn't mean shit here, though, where his strength is massively diminished — something he was genuinely just berating himself for — and Adrian can easily get the upper hand on him due to sheer size alone.
It doesn't come without a fight; Rosso pitches an almost literal fit as he tries not to go down, gripping Adrian's waist hard with his knees in an attempt not to be thrown or kicked or wrestled out of his victory. He obviously tried so very hard to get it. (Why in Elria's name he thought Adrian wouldn't fight him back is a mystery.)
So, Rosso goes down flailing, trying to push Adrian back with his hands on his chest, like he's going to maybe succeed here what with his vice-grip on the manticore's hips and with his (fairly impressive, reduced to feeling fairly average) strength. There's a doglike yelp as he hits the floor, victory gone just as soon as he earned it, and...]
[His face flares red, ears flattening back against his skull, and for a slow moment he's all but paralysed. Belatedly, the sound of Adrian's earlier growl and the breathy tone of voice finally hits him, alongside some strange sense of dizziness. Suddenly, it's hot in here.
Totally not all the blood rushing to his face or anything, it's definitely hot in here. He must have the heat cranked up too high or something.
Sufficiently pinned to the floor, Rosso can only manage a very weak response to that question.]
You know it is.
[Somehow, there's still fight in him. Verbally, anyhow.]
[God, why does Rosso scream so much. It's like he's getting killed all over again, seriously. And Adrian, who is very sensitive to that as a Manticore, feels his head practically ring from it as he fights to regain the upper hand, as if they were actually wrestling in the first place. Makes sense that they'd go from having a heart-to-heart to immediately trying to pin each other because neither one of them have more than one braincell in their skulls at a time.
Regardless of all the racket Rosso makes, Adrian is not going to stop until he's gotten Rosso down. It's not without a considerable fight- Rosso actually boffs Adrian right in the nose at one point, which stuns him long enough that Rosso was able to like, jump up onto him and nearly knock him back down- but once he recovers he's able to get the upper hand and use his considerable bulk to pin him. It isn't helped by the way his claws dig into his hips in an attempt to push back, Adrian working to try to remember not to let his claws extend out from his paws, lest he actually do damage with them.
At the end of it all, they're nose to nose with one another with Adrian panting to catch his breath, his hair falling in waves across his face and down far enough to brush Rosso's shoulders. He glares back at him for a long moment, and at first there's the hint of a triumphant, assholeish grin working its way onto his features, until he notices that...face Rosso's making, and it causes him to freeze.
What...
His lip curls, his expression sort of shifting through a dozen different emotions all at once.]
Rosso doesn't move. Partly because he can't (there is a giant catman on top of him) but also because, in the moment, he sort of... forgets? Forgets to not have his legs around Adrian's waist, forgets how to move his arms and swat Adrian away, forgets how to exist.
The hair touching his shoulder tickles.
Adrian's breath is very hot on his face. Well, more like his lips, since they're nose to nose, but if Rosso thinks about that he's going to die.
Adrian is... pretty? Pretty. Urgh—]
You enjoying yourself, brat? You gonna sit there all day, or are you gonna move?
Wh- don't give me that shit, you're the one who started it!!
[As if Adrian isn't 100% the reason they're in this predicament now. He could have just rolled Rosso off of him like a normal person (or let him have the W for once), but no.
No, it's much easier to thrust the blame off onto someone else, yes. Let's not take responsibility for anything ever and not have to think as hard about what's happening right now-]
H-how am I 'sposed to when you got me pinned like a fuckin' vice?
I'm not the one who started shit! You called me short!
[...sort of. Either way, breaking news, Rosso is very small.]
You're the one on top of me! You're not fucking pinned!
[....................like okay but he kind of is though, Rosso has not released his death-pincer on Adrian's hips, and as soon as he comes to the realization that he's still holding on, he uh... just... relaxes. A little.
["Calling someone short" escalating to "wrestling on the floor for dominance" is...
...no, yeah, it's definitely something these idiots would devolve into.
Either way! Adrian waits for Rosso to realize his error, his ears pinned to his head as he endeavors to look everywhere but exactly at him. Only when he relaxes his hold will Adrian finally draw away and return Rosso's personal space...but not before pulling his middle finger back with his thumb so he can deliver a quick flick to his forehead.]
[The braincell is set to "unresolved possibly-sexual tension". At least, that's where it is for Rosso.
He sits up, dragging himself out from underneath Adrian with his face still red and his one eye looking anywhere the fuck else. He doesn't go back to the couch, simply sits on the floor with his arms crossed.
Aaaaaaaand normally he wouldn't take that flick lying down, but all he really does is say ow and sit there pouting.]
Whatever. You were the one being a punk anyway.
[Rosso you tackled him]
I guess... if I had to see anyone after I woke up here, I'm glad it was you. [gross]
Well if Rosso is just going to sit weirdly on the floor...then Adrian will do the same, sitting back on his haunches with his tail wrapping around himself in a way someone could call protective. Or shy, maybe, depending on how you read body language.
Mostly he's kindof surprised by the lack of retaliation, which causes that tension between them to weigh heavy in the room. Adrian doesn't even say anything for a long few seconds, which definitely makes it worse.
When Rosso does finally speak up though, he huffs. Looks away, tail-tip flicking.]
Mmh. [You must have low standards, he thinks but doesn't say-] Yeah, well. Maybe next time I won't have a reason to yell at you.
[Listen. Sometimes Rosso gets flustered so hard that he loses all sense of punk-ass-bitch and has to reboot. He's currently still rebooting, actually, awkwardly gazing back behind him to the kitchen and thinking maybe he'll panic-clean all the stuff he used earlier right this second.
...
He glances back to Adrian.]
Yeah, 'cause I'm not gonna fucking die this time. It was unpleasant enough last time. Didn't know I'd even come back.
[That's what he gets for keeping his nose out of all the dramatic going-ons here. Doesn't have enough connections to know that someone comes back if they die here. Hasn't cared to learn much about other monsters until like, last month, because every time someone tried to hand him a brochure he walked away and just made assumptions about stuff happening. Definitely never gave two fucks about any of the gods until they became an actual honest-to-god (ha) problem in Felfri, at which point he's been telling certain people to give up on religion entirely. Which, in his opinion, should've happened already, but... what're you gonna do?]
No. No matter how he feels about it, he can't think that way. It wasn't Rosso's fault, not when his assailant attacked him out of nowhere in broad daylight. He'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time, so really, it could have happened to anyone.
The Manticore shakes his head a little, propping his arm up on one of his knees. Well. They could just keep sitting here in awkward silence, but that's no good for anyone. That's why Adrian breaks it by leaning over and dropping a paw on top of Rosso's head between his ears, ruffling his hair.]
Good, cause I'd kill you myself when you came back.
[Oooh Adrian he's going to bite your fucking hand off he swears to God—
Except he doesn't do this, he just sits on the floor and curses the way his ears shift out of the way to give Adrian's bigass paw more room, curses the way his tail thumps against the carpeted floor because affection nice. Meanwhile, his face is the picture of, "Really? Again?" because like. why. why must this happen.]
The fuck are you petting me so much for today?
[Yet he does absolutely nothing to stop this.]
Missed me that much, huh? [Please learn to pick your battles, Rosso.]
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flammadecinis) wrote2022-05-15 03:26 pm
no subject
But if being here has taught Adrian anything, it's that if he died- even for a short period- there are people who would be looking for him. Left behind, wondering after his safety and wellbeing, and that is not something he's experienced since he was a very young child.
He had to think to understand why seeing Rosso's lost compass bothered him so bad. He didn't even have to speculate, he just...knew that Rosso had been killed. There's no way he would have just dropped something that important to him. Then, hearing that he'd been killed, brutally. It set off something in him that he hasn't felt since losing Misha. That blind, overwhelming terror that it's happening again.
His chest heaves a little, as all of a sudden it feels like he can't quite take a full breath. Smoke trails through the gaps in his fangs, but no fire ever comes. He just stands there, stupidly, having a crisis in his head as the silence between them stretches on.
Eventually, he slowly pads forward, but he doesn't move to sit on the couch next to Rosso like a normal person might. Instead, he sinks in front of him, thudding heavily to his knees. He's tall enough that they're still mostly eye-to-eye, Rosso maybe a few inches above him still sitting but not by much.
Then, without...really any preamble or warning, he leans in so he can pull the Werewolf into a hug. His paws grip him tight, firm but not unyielding, one pressed against his shoulder while the other rests in an awkward place between his neck and the back of his head, like he's not sure where exactly it should go.]
Dumbass.
no subject
Ordinarily, Rosso would immediately jerk away. Complain. Bemoan the sudden contact and yell and make a fuss simply because he's Rosso and he doesn't need sympathy or warmth or help. Doesn't deserve it. Too dangerous to have it. Whatever excuses he could possibly spew, they die on his tongue because it's Adrian.
He barely has time to squeeze out a surprised squeak. One second, he's sitting there minding his own business, next thing he knows Adrian is crouched in front of him, and now there are paws firm and stalwart on him.
Internally, he's screaming. Not for angry reasons. Just for "how dare you make my feelings for you worse" reasons. For "how dare you care" reasons.
Rosso hesitates for a slow moment, hands hovering over Adrian's shoulders. Maybe he's hallucinating this. His tired brain is making shit up, obviously, it's not like Adrian would ever give him a hug.
...
Arms wind their way around Adrian's neck, fingers tangling with his mane. One shaky exhale later, all Rosso can say is,]
Could say the same about you, brat.
no subject
At least until he came here. Until he met some of the most annoying people to ever live, yet somehow realize that he's not sure what he'd do without them.
Rosso, who he actually hated when they first met because of how much it was like looking at himself in a mirror, is now one of those people. For all his griping and grousing, he would protect him with his life and do so willingly. Quite the huge change from Adrian's motto following the loss of Misha: fuck you, got mine. Because he rarely ever gets his. There's no room then for kindness or leniency.
He doesn't retort for once, actually staying silent as Rosso returns the embrace. He's feels so small, so fragile, even though he knows the Were is anything but. At least this time, if something happens, he won't be feeling regrets.
Adrian's ears fall back, low and nearly completely hidden against his mane, as he exhales on a chuffing sound against Rosso's shoulder. It's not a purr, but more of a lion-sound of contentment.]
Whatever the hell happens now, you're stuck with me. Even if you hate it, I ain't gonna not be there to back you up anymore. Don't forget that.
no subject
[(Affectionate)
Rosso clings. It's incredibly unlike him — he lives alone, after all, so who could he possibly cling to? — but he finds comfort in the embrace despite himself. The logical part of his brain wonders if this hug has gone on for too long. Aren't hugs supposed to last for a few seconds? Rosso wouldn't know; no one's ever hugged him before. At least not like this.
Perhaps the hatred when they first met was mutual. Rosso had been overcome with fury on his arrival, kicking out car windshields and getting into random fights because that's who he is as a person. Adrian's presence had been entirely unwelcome at the time, snarky and superior-sounding as he'd been. Then, Rosso found him mangled by his own transformation in an alleyway, and all bets were off. Much as he despised it at the time, he started to care. The more they ran into each other, the more he started to care. Ribbing each other on the internet and confessing how much his life sucked and going to the amusement park, having Adrian basically come to his rescue in the maze, getting plastered in the Fog caves and making him dinner and braiding flowers into his hair—
Ugh. Gross, is that sentimentality? How the mighty fall and all that.
If Adrian thinks he feels small, Rosso can echo the sentiment; being hugged by the giant manticore is reminding him that he's absolutely tiny. Normally, that would bother him — it's usually On Sight for people who tease him about his height, something he's always been touchy about — but somehow, he's feeling weirdly secure. "Weirdly" except it's not actually that strange of an occurrence, given everything that's built up to this exact moment. It isn't as though Rosso has ever felt a sense of security in his life.
He hums briefly, contemplatively, and then decides... fuck it. He has something to say.]
...I didn't ever tell you my first name. Did I? [...] I guess I trust you enough to use it now, if you want. It's "Ainen".
[Though, he thinks if he actually heard Adrian use it, he might just die on the spot.]
I am so sorry
Plus, he feels like he really needs to make up for shoving both feet in his mouth by coming into Rosso's apartment and screaming at him for dying. It hasn't really been a good look for him.]
Tell me somethin' I don't know.
[He murmurs, rolling his eyes where Rosso won't be able to see. It's about that moment that he realizes that Rosso's hands are in his mane, but it's fine. They can be there, it's fineeeeeee-
He's about to draw back finally when Rosso's next admission interrupts him, his mouth half open for a second as what he says sinks in.]
......is that s'posed to be some kinda anagram for "Adrian"?
[A(d)(r)i(a)nen illuminati
Anyway Rosso has full immunity if he kills him]
no you're not
slightlyromantic feelings for Adrian have died, bye, get out of his apartment.He doesn't really break the hug so much as he leans back in shock at that, like of all the things to possibly fucking say, that's what this fucking moron has? This is what his day has become now? You come into his house to give him his missing compass back, yell at him for dying, embrace him, and now this?? In front of his salad—
"Sitting back" doesn't mean his arms aren't still around Adrian's neck and that his hands aren't still tangled in his mane; he's simply giving them enough space so he can flatly look Adrian dead in the eye while he musters all the sarcasm in the world right now.]
Yes, that's it, you fucking got me, congratulations. By the El, you're the dumbest motherfucker in the universe.
[(Still affectionate)
He rolls his eye. Behind him, there's an unmistakable wag in his tail as part of him finds some humour in the situation, much as he wants to pretend he doesn't. If he weren't feeling so grossly fond of Adrian by the point that was said, he might've bonked the manticore over the head and kicked him out.
It probably says something about the current state of their friendship that he doesn't go that route.]
I'm five hundred fucking years older than you, so isn't your name an anagram of mine?
[Y'all, that isn't how anagrams work—]
:3
It's too much. It's short circuited his brain and he has to cope by being an idiot.
The good news is that Rosso reacts pretty much exactly how he thought he would, which causes Adrian's tail to curl behind him as he grins back at the other, cheeky and all teeth.]
Oh yeah. I almost forgot you were a grandpa, grandpa.
no subject
You wanna start shit, jagi?!
[Honestly... he wants that to come out more intimidating than it does. A little more spite or vitriol or something, but it doesn't do that. It comes out playfully. Horrifyingly so.
There's that plus the internal horror of the fact that he's just casually slipped in a term of endearment there, because Rosso is extremely heterosexual today apparently — ooh boy. Hey, you know what, he'd like to go be emotionless now. That's surely something he can do. Just trade all the fire and rage and gross unmentionable feelings in for... like a new monster form or something. Mana accepts emotions as currency right? No?
Undeterred by his slip-up, he attempts, poorly, to cover it up.]
Didn't anybody teach you to respect your elders?! [grrr please voice sound angrier, he's begging]
no subject
Haaah? The fuck you even sayin' anymore?
[He lifts one of his big paws and just...drops it on top of Rosso's head, deliberately working it around so he can muss up his hair good. God, he loves fucking with him so much, it's fun.]
Yeah okay, I'll respect you when you stop yappin' at me like a puppy. It's cute.
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He audibly groans (scream-groans) (it's very loud) when Adrian starts to ruffle his hair. It's so long, please, if you tangle it you're gonna be the one brushing it you fucking punk-ass bitch—
...
CUTE?!]
I—!
[Rosso.exe has stopped working.]
F...fuck off! I'm not fuckin' cute—!
[HE'S SCARY AS FUCK :(]
Don't fucking tease me, fuck you, I'll kick your ass!
[Face as red as his hair. Good job, Adrian, you got him.]
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Uh huh, can you even reach it?
[Okay now he's just asking for it, but this is like...easy. It's familiar. He'd rather be goading Rosso into snapping at him than confronting the reality of their respective mortality. It's easier to cope when you spin it into something ridiculous, which seems to be the method of attack here.
That, and he's still trying to shake off feeling all...sentimental after that hug. He can't do sentiment, he's allergic.]
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They're still kind of grossly wrapped around each other in some ways — Rosso's fingertips never really left Adrian's mane. He could be a dick and pull it like a grade schooler, but the little werewolf is slightly more mature than that (source needed). Spurned on by the comment, Rosso chooses to make it somewhat physical, finally untangling his fingers from Adrian's fur and instead settling them on his shoulders.
Acting entirely on impulse, he hooks his legs around Adrian's waist from where the manticore is crouched, and with hardly any effort on his part, Rosso pushes his full weight forward to send them both careening to the ground between the sofa and coffee table. Triumphantly, he sits on Adrian's stomach, arms crossed, like he doesn't weigh five pounds soaking wet and couldn't easily be thrown off by the larger monster.]
Try me, brat.
[5 seconds until Rosso realises that he's the architect of his own doom.]
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[Since Adrian had already technically been on the floor, it won't be difficult at all for Rosso to use his weight against him, rocking him backwards and sending them both down onto the floor. He falls flat on his back on the carpet with enough force to cause the coffee table to rattle near his head, his paws lifted up like a startled red-pands in front of him. He looks back up at Rosso owlishly, eyes wide and unblinking as he perches there on his stomach, accomplished. He's small enough comparitively that Adrian barely registers the weight, but it's more...the principle of the thing.
...and it sets off an instinct, one that makes Adrian growl, deep and long, in the back of his throat.]
S'that a challenge?
[He huffs, his nose wrinkling at the way he sounds breathless when he says that, like he'd just run a marathon. His tail has little room to move, but if he weren't stuck between the couch and table, it would be whipping around like crazy as he leans back...and attempts to get his back feet wedged up underneath Rosso so he can
bunny kickpush him off. He doesn't have his lion legs yet (that comes in a couple days), so it's a little awkward, but it comes with Adrian moving to try to sit up so he can plant his paws against Rosso's chest as he flips their positions, attempting to wrestle him down until he's pinned.]1/2
It doesn't come without a fight; Rosso pitches an almost literal fit as he tries not to go down, gripping Adrian's waist hard with his knees in an attempt not to be thrown or kicked or wrestled out of his victory. He obviously tried so very hard to get it. (Why in Elria's name he thought Adrian wouldn't fight him back is a mystery.)
So, Rosso goes down flailing, trying to push Adrian back with his hands on his chest, like he's going to maybe succeed here what with his vice-grip on the manticore's hips and with his (fairly impressive, reduced to feeling fairly average) strength. There's a doglike yelp as he hits the floor, victory gone just as soon as he earned it, and...]
2/2
Totally not all the blood rushing to his face or anything, it's definitely hot in here. He must have the heat cranked up too high or something.
Sufficiently pinned to the floor, Rosso can only manage a very weak response to that question.]
You know it is.
[Somehow, there's still fight in him. Verbally, anyhow.]
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Regardless of all the racket Rosso makes, Adrian is not going to stop until he's gotten Rosso down. It's not without a considerable fight- Rosso actually boffs Adrian right in the nose at one point, which stuns him long enough that Rosso was able to like, jump up onto him and nearly knock him back down- but once he recovers he's able to get the upper hand and use his considerable bulk to pin him. It isn't helped by the way his claws dig into his hips in an attempt to push back, Adrian working to try to remember not to let his claws extend out from his paws, lest he actually do damage with them.
At the end of it all, they're nose to nose with one another with Adrian panting to catch his breath, his hair falling in waves across his face and down far enough to brush Rosso's shoulders. He glares back at him for a long moment, and at first there's the hint of a triumphant, assholeish grin working its way onto his features, until he notices that...face Rosso's making, and it causes him to freeze.
What...
His lip curls, his expression sort of shifting through a dozen different emotions all at once.]
Y-you...you look so fucking stupid-
[STOP LOOKING AT HIM WITH THOSE BIG OL EYES]
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[Genius.
Rosso doesn't move. Partly because he can't (there is a giant catman on top of him) but also because, in the moment, he sort of... forgets? Forgets to not have his legs around Adrian's waist, forgets how to move his arms and swat Adrian away, forgets how to exist.
The hair touching his shoulder tickles.
Adrian's breath is very hot on his face. Well, more like his lips, since they're nose to nose, but if Rosso thinks about that he's going to die.
Adrian is... pretty? Pretty. Urgh—]
You enjoying yourself, brat? You gonna sit there all day, or are you gonna move?
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[As if Adrian isn't 100% the reason they're in this predicament now. He could have just rolled Rosso off of him like a normal person (or let him have the W for once), but no.
No, it's much easier to thrust the blame off onto someone else, yes. Let's not take responsibility for anything ever and not have to think as hard about what's happening right now-]
H-how am I 'sposed to when you got me pinned like a fuckin' vice?
[Well one of them's going to have to eventually]
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[...sort of. Either way, breaking news, Rosso is very small.]
You're the one on top of me! You're not fucking pinned!
[....................like okay but he kind of is though, Rosso has not released his death-pincer on Adrian's hips, and as soon as he comes to the realization that he's still holding on, he uh... just... relaxes. A little.
Be free, catman.]
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...no, yeah, it's definitely something these idiots would devolve into.
Either way! Adrian waits for Rosso to realize his error, his ears pinned to his head as he endeavors to look everywhere but exactly at him. Only when he relaxes his hold will Adrian finally draw away and return Rosso's personal space...but not before pulling his middle finger back with his thumb so he can deliver a quick flick to his forehead.]
Stupid.
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He sits up, dragging himself out from underneath Adrian with his face still red and his one eye looking anywhere the fuck else. He doesn't go back to the couch, simply sits on the floor with his arms crossed.
Aaaaaaaand normally he wouldn't take that flick lying down, but all he really does is say ow and sit there pouting.]
Whatever. You were the one being a punk anyway.
[Rosso you tackled him]
I guess... if I had to see anyone after I woke up here, I'm glad it was you. [gross]
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Well if Rosso is just going to sit weirdly on the floor...then Adrian will do the same, sitting back on his haunches with his tail wrapping around himself in a way someone could call protective. Or shy, maybe, depending on how you read body language.
Mostly he's kindof surprised by the lack of retaliation, which causes that tension between them to weigh heavy in the room. Adrian doesn't even say anything for a long few seconds, which definitely makes it worse.
When Rosso does finally speak up though, he huffs. Looks away, tail-tip flicking.]
Mmh. [You must have low standards, he thinks but doesn't say-] Yeah, well. Maybe next time I won't have a reason to yell at you.
[YOU DIDN'T THIS TIME]
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...
He glances back to Adrian.]
Yeah, 'cause I'm not gonna fucking die this time. It was unpleasant enough last time. Didn't know I'd even come back.
[That's what he gets for keeping his nose out of all the dramatic going-ons here. Doesn't have enough connections to know that someone comes back if they die here. Hasn't cared to learn much about other monsters until like, last month, because every time someone tried to hand him a brochure he walked away and just made assumptions about stuff happening. Definitely never gave two fucks about any of the gods until they became an actual honest-to-god (ha) problem in Felfri, at which point he's been telling certain people to give up on religion entirely. Which, in his opinion, should've happened already, but... what're you gonna do?]
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[He didn't even know, and yet he still...
No. No matter how he feels about it, he can't think that way. It wasn't Rosso's fault, not when his assailant attacked him out of nowhere in broad daylight. He'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time, so really, it could have happened to anyone.
The Manticore shakes his head a little, propping his arm up on one of his knees. Well. They could just keep sitting here in awkward silence, but that's no good for anyone. That's why Adrian breaks it by leaning over and dropping a paw on top of Rosso's head between his ears, ruffling his hair.]
Good, cause I'd kill you myself when you came back.
[Baka.]
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Except he doesn't do this, he just sits on the floor and curses the way his ears shift out of the way to give Adrian's bigass paw more room, curses the way his tail thumps against the carpeted floor because affection nice. Meanwhile, his face is the picture of, "Really? Again?" because like. why. why must this happen.]
The fuck are you petting me so much for today?
[Yet he does absolutely nothing to stop this.]
Missed me that much, huh? [Please learn to pick your battles, Rosso.]
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