[Feb Catchall][OTA]

[judgementor]

Who: Red Wine
When: Jan/Feb
Where: All around
What: Feb catchall, maybe with a bit of backdated stuff for Jan
Warnings: None yet.
Note: TLs in post. Feel free to thrown down your own for me!

Comments

[judgementor]

I know you like to imagine yourself to be in the lead, and I graciously allow you your fantasy.

[Maybe he is in the lead, but it isn't as if Red Wine is going to admit it.]

[battlebound]

It's not a fantasy! ( hmph. why would he need to fantasise about that when he is clearly the better of the two? )

[judgementor]

You do understand the meaning of 'fantasy', yes?

[Steak can dream he's the better of the two. Red Wine is sure they are both aware that just isn't the case.]

[battlebound]

Why, you—!

( if there is any greater sign of all being well than Steak growling out those words and grabbing Red Wine by the collar, we don't know it. )

[judgementor]

[Red Wine responds instantly with a wild grin and a strong hand gripping tightly around Steak's wrist. He chuckles lowly, a giddy light sparking up behind his eyes.]

What? Is that a 'no'?

[battlebound]

( oh, you think it's that easy, Red Wine? Steak's beginning to study, you know. )

I'll show you my fantasy!

( ... questionable word choice aside, he presses magic into his fingers, murmuring an unintelligible spell which

uh

dyes Red Wine's collar a gaudy shade of turquoise.

and judging by the way Steak looks down and blinks, that wasn't his fantasy at all. )

[judgementor]

[It could be what he says, or what he does, or a combination of the two, but Red Wine doesn't react quite how Steak might expect him to. He doesn't yell or raise a fist to punch him, but he follows his gaze down and yanks his own collar enough to be able to see what happened to it.]

What...

[His lips press together, his jaw working slightly, and-- is he angry? It's hard to tell.

At least, it's hard to tell until he starts laughing.]

What was that?

[battlebound]

( how red can beef go? well he may just outshine his hair at this rate, because not only was that embarrassing, Red Wine is infuriating, and Steak promptly, and roughly, lets go of his collar, shoving him backwards with the motion. )

You-- shut up.

( huff. )

[judgementor]

[He's so used to being shoved by Steak like that that he barely loses his footing at all, but he sits down abruptly on the edge of his bed all the same as he keeps laughing.

It isn't even that funny, but at the same time... It's so funny.]

What-- What were you trying to do?

[battlebound]

( the grumbling Steak makes in response is almost certainly only decipherable to dogs. )

I was trying to shut you up.

( and if the spell had worked, Red Wine would have had a mouthful of fabric to muffle his nonsense. )

[judgementor]

Well that didn't bloody work did it.

[It's tickled him in a way he can't quite explain, even though he's going to have to change his shirt now because that colour just clashes with everything about him.]

You really are ridiculous.

[battlebound]

( says the guy who dresses like that.

but Steak decides that it is much easier to answer that barb with a simple flick of his middle finger towards Red Wine.

bastard. )