[he could take Dave easy, huh? maybe — but maybe, also consider Dave's current arsenal of pool battle tactics. there's the suplexing. there's the Sylladex. there's the stopping time.]
[lots of strategies that begin with s. and, yeah, all of those would probably earn him the label of sdirty scheater.]
[but he quirks an eyebrow at the question, the challenge, thumbs casually dug into his pockets.]
[His clout in this fight is completely dependent on his ability to physically resist and plunge Dave right back into the watery depths below. That said, any sort of time stoppage would render him completely useless. Worse, being captchalogued and spun out into the water would make him a literal cannonball. He can only rely on this being fair. Which, it's probably somewhat abysmal in chances.
It calls back to when he had to take Dave's shadow on, and knowing that direct encounter with his abilities would lead to utter bullshit going down, and as considers the options here, he'd have to go for a distraction. Strategy. If it wouldn't be so obvious, he'd be rubbing his chin right now.]
Oh, y'know. You could try to toss me in there. But... I'm pretty sure it's like. Definitely mutually assured destruction. How about we call it quits while we're ahead, yeah?
[A confident step forward as he approaches Dave, much like he's offering trust to be taken.]
Eh, I got a towel for ya. [A few more steps.] You're not too cold, are you? [Still trying to close some of that distance between them. He offers out a hand to Dave.] Let's get you dried off.
[that whole line of thought presents an interesting question, though: which one of them would actually win in a no items, no abilities, Final Destination match? the main reason Dave has such a huge advantage here is he has an arsenal of overpowered tricks, after all. and the both of them seem to have the same sort of melee build, though Ryuji probably hits a lot harder. you know, when he actually lands hits.]
[it'd probably boil down to who has more endurance.]
[but to answer Ryuji's question, he is a kid who hails from the South and whose fated bullshit quest planet is literally just a giant ball of lava. Dave's always a little cold on board this space station, and going for an accidental swim didn't help much.]
You've got a towel. [he says he's got a towel ... but strange, Dave doesn't see one in his hands! he doesn't make any sudden moves, though — he's just watching to see how close Ryuji is ultimately going to get to him.]
[Strictly speaking, fox only, right? Ryuji's probably a bit stronger with the amount of working out he's done over the last year, but he also has a problem with endurance. Those leg cramps are real fucking annoying, so as long as Dave can drag it out, he can probably win. And hey, at least he doesn't have a cat this time around to drag him. Skull, you're so pathetic.
Kind of works out, though. At least, the heat differentials. Ryuji runs pretty warm, and the second the temperature kicks it up a few notches to spicy tomato levels of heat, he's in a tanktop and shorts. Running the air-con a lot wasn't very cost effective, though, so he learned to endure it more often than not. He's still the first to complain about it, though.
He does have a towel, though. He definitely has a towel. It's just not anywhere in sight. Ryuji knows this, and yet.]
It's just outside the fitness center.
[It's a gambit, of course, and he knows he's playing with fire. Which is good, considering there's a pool right-over-there. Not backing down, he takes another step forward toward Dave.]
[maybe Falco would be a better pick for this hypothetical, especially considering the intense game of chicken they're playing right now — Ryuji closing the distance between them with each turn like he's some sort of really tall Tonberry, and Dave, though he's casual about it, stubbornly holding his ground, waiting to see if Ryuji follows through on what that rowdy smile of his seems to imply.]
[but then, Dave finally goes ahead and tosses a strategy out into the air. because it's a verbal one.]
Hold that thought a second, Mufasa. Before you dunk me, I wanna ask you something.
[dude. that's the oldest trick in the book, you really think Ryuji's gonna fall for it.]
[That confident exterior of his at totally owning this encounter cracks along the edges. He didn't think he was being that obvious over the entire thing, but Dave goes right for it. Ryuji can't even play it off, either, like- oh, dunk you? Would never think of that in a million years. Although the thought crosses his mind to try and deflect, it makes him snort a laugh through his nose that comes off as... also really fucking obvious.]
Uhh...
[It might be the OLDEST TRICK IN THE BOOK, but he's still prone to fall for those, and he tilts his head to the side, 10 degrees pivoted from being upright in that way he usually does when he's thinking of something.
[Ryuji's poker face could use some work. poker laugh? poker try to avoid snorting when you're called out. see Dave's face? do that.]
[of course, even the best poker players have their tells. like how Dave folds his arms across his chest, pursing his lips, perhaps hinting that he's got his own dunking scheme currently whirring away in his head.]
Some jazz music, actually. Like, some jazz music that started playing out of no where in my room the other day.
[Might as well be George Fucking Washington and live up to that dumb myth of "I cannot tell a lie," because Ryuji's suddenly hyper aware that this is definitely not going in the direction he was planning. He should run for the hills.
But he'll try it. He'll try this foreign, weird concept of "not telling the truth," and just shrug it off.]
... Dunno what the hell... y...you're talkin' about, dude.
[Except for the way that he audibly stutters in the middle of it. Or any number of the following giveaways:
-he doesn't look directly at Dave's shades -he delayed a response that wasn't immediate and instinctive -the upward change in ton of his voice at the word dude
[lol. Dave's got Ryuji right where he wants him now.]
[but yeah, it's true, it was a great prank, he'll admit it. and you can bet he'll also be using the space station AI responsibly to return the pranking favor.]
Really? I was gonna tell whoever was responsible thanks.
Maybe Dave really liked the smooth stylings of jazz circa way too goddamn long ago. Maybe he had a dance party right then and there. Ryuji follows this train of thought, because he's gullible sometimes, and why would Dave ever lead him astray, right? Right?
He bites down on one corner of his lip, and nods. Well, if he was really into the entire thing, he definitely did Dave a favor.]
[Ryuji's in the deep end before he's even actually in the deep end. The distance closes a bit more, and his gut feeling is telling him to take a step back, but he ain't no coward. He's also not guilty, so why would he feel nervous around this immortal god of hamster Valhalla?
Yeah, he's definitely making this really easy. His lips twitch, and he tries to straighten them out by force, restricting and forbidding the muscles in his mouth to start turning upward in concavity. He'll just... reach out, now that they're close enough and place a hand right on his shoulder.
If he's going down, he's going to at least try to take Dave with him.]
Maybe Crystal just likes that style of music, are we really gonna judge?
[mutually assured destruction it is, then. what's Dave got to lose? Simba already dunked him to the murky depths once already today, may as well go down in a blaze of pseudo vengeful glory.]
I'm just saying, chatbots don't get random wild hairs about sharing their music tastes on their own, right? [Dave, don't ... don't call the station's AI a chatbot??]
I figure someone must have been, I dunno. Texting with Cynthia or something.
[he punctuates that by lifting his hand to his own shoulder, casually wrapping his fingers around the top of Ryuji's wrist.]
[If only they were both close enough to the water so that Ryuji could suplex Dave right into the damn thing. Not even thinking if he were strong enough to do it, just ruing the notion that concrete isn't the right texture or softness to get that done.]
I mean, technically speakin', I don't think Carol actually has hair.
[He can't believe Dave is insinuating musical infidelities with the station's chatbot. Whatever a chatbot was.]
But if someone were chatting her up, and I definitely ain't sayin' it was me, but if someone were, and the conversation just sorta went in that direction, then whoever that someone is, must've really wanted to share something kinda beautiful with you. I mean, I'd be, like, completely honored.
[Somehow he never saw this coming.
And his eyes follow toward that hand; the moment is near and he doesn't have enough time. Jig's up. Whatever happens, it'll be hot pursuit. He needs to react quickly to throw him off guard. Ryuji uses his other hand to pull Dave closer, hand against the skinny of his back. One hand raises up higher on his shoulder, and the second he can, he's going to aim to sweep him right off his feet.
That is, if Dave doesn't already have a plan up his sleeve.]
Oh, okay. So that was your thought process behind the whole thing.
[got it. but defensively speaking, from the perspective of his original intent here, which is to toss a dry boyfriend in the pool, Dave's kind of gotten himself in a precarious situation. a ... kind of nice one, actually, if you remove the threat of getting turbo dunked back in the deep end.]
[though, if he doesn't move from his current position, it wouldn't take much more than a grand sweeping gesture to send him sprawling backwards, and Ryuji is certainly strong enough to pull that off.]
[but Dave, as they are both well aware, is a dirty cheater.]
[he grabs hold of both of Ryuji's arms, trying to hold them best as he can against Ryuji's sides in an attempt to prevent him from moving well enough to pull off whatever maneuver he's gunning for. and if that doesn't work? he's battening down the hatches and refusing to let go.]
[it's a friendly warning, too. you know. a last chance to back down before Dave really starts cheating.]
[He thought he established very early on that it wasn't hi...
yeah, okay, he can't even play it off any more. He smirks as Dave starts to control the threat in the room. That threat being Ryuji, of course.]
Yeah, fine, whatever, I did it.
[Uh.
Dave, what are you doing.]
This sure is like. A really weird effin' way to give a dude a hug. [And yet, he knows exactly what Dave's doing, playing coy about it isn't going to get himself anywhere near constructive.]
This is how you're supposed to do it. [He exerts opposing pressure against the constraining motion, and, yeah. One of those Newtonian laws he never learned about. For every action there's an opposite and equal reaction, right? Or, more importantly, what goes around fucking comes right back around.]
What're you. [IT'S NOT PANIC IN HIS VOICE AT ALL.] Dave, c'mon. Dude.
[sweet, Dave's strategy of "be annoying and persistent until Ryuji finally relents" paid off. it's something he's done plenty of times in the past, and honestly, it's probably an indication of endearment over anything.]
[and he volleys that smirk right back at Ryuji, grip around his arms tightening. there's no escaping, bro — they're officially in the shit now.]
[in the pool. about to take a trip to "in the pool." one of those.]
What? This is how I always give hugs. You ripping on my form?
[They're really living up this mutually assured destruction thing, huh? It might've just been easier to ask Dave to jump in with him and they both could've avoided this ostensibly aggressive bout of competition. But then again, it doesn't go like that when it comes to these two. The big stuff is miles ahead into the easy zone, whereas things like this are met confrontationally, and Ryuji is just standing there, getting the weirdest fucking bear hug he's ever gotten in his life.]
Well there's a few things I know about you and I'm gonna say that that's buuuuullshit. [There's a roller coaster of intonations in the elongation of the u in that word.
And god, he masochistically plays along with this, like he knows he should break free of his grasp, but like a moth heading straight into the campfire, he remains morbidly curious as to whether or not he's ACTUALLY GOING TO DO IT.]
[is exactly what Dave's hubris is saying. you know, the cocky confidence he's built up after winning all their previous, admittedly very goofy rounds of wrasslin'. though, for all he knows, Ryuji's got some last-ditch effort to break free and lob him over his shoulder, sending him back into the water and officially putting Ryuji on the Dave vs. Ryuji scoreboard. sports board?]
[He thinks long and hard about what he wants to say here. He's kind of... already done the last words with him before, and that was kind of morbid and tranquil at the same time, so anything meaningful he would've wanted to say back then still pretty much applies.
You know, the whole... wanting more time with him, etc etc.
That's not the right context now, as he's literally being forced to walk the plank. Which, strikes him from deep within.]
A fitting way for a pirate to finally go.
[Ryuji, he has no idea who Captain Kidd was, what the hell are you doing.]
With my last breath before this scurvy mutinous [Scurvy's not an adjective, what the fuck-] attempt at my life, I'd like to just say.
[He fathers the courage in his chest to say what's really on his mind, here.]
[... no, he will NOT be swayed by such an incredibly compelling pre-plank speech, even as his grip on Ryuji's arms gives just the slightest, as he transfers that strength into maintaining his poker face.]
[don't you dare laugh, Dave Strider!!!]
[he leans in closer, intent on regaining the control over the situation that he had before Ryuji let loose with probably the smartest thing that either of them have ever said.]
Pretty goddamn moving, dude. [something highly amused is threatening the corners of his mouth again.]
I mean, you're still going in the pool. But don't worry, I'll make sure to throw your Emmy for best speech in after you.
[they don't ... give Emmys for that, Dave. but yeah, he's going to go ahead and start casually shuffling Ryuji to the edge of the pool — if Ryuji's going to fight back, now's the time to do it.]
Except, that's not how any of this is going- in any of this sad state of affairs. He nods, smiling somewhat---]
I think the only thing that's moving is me, to be completely real here.
[There's a phantom experience of his body getting thrown in the water, and the hair on the back of his neck just stands completely on end.
Fuck it.
It's a suicide mission, he's going for it. Ryuji pulls backward, his grappled state working in his benefit, because even if Dave lets go, he's going to try to grab onto his wrist and take him down with him. EAT DIRT, DUDE.
There's the fall of civilized society, right fucking there, as Ryuji feels water his his back, and he quickly tries to close his eyes and hold his breath. Alone, or with a punk ass, mutinous boyfriend in tow?]
[... okay, so, this is how Dave was expecting this to go down: they'd banter with each other for like another minute, maybe there'd be a grand struggle over who got to shove who in the pool, with the shoving and the digging of the heels in the ground, and then Dave would have just busted out his trump card of assigning Ryuji to an actual card in his Sylladex and turning him out into the water.]
Hey— !!
[but, really, knowing Ryuji as well as he does by this point, he should have expected that he'd immediately go for the self-sabotage option! but, he didn't. and so, there he goes, sprawling into the stampede right along with the king of Pride Rock. or the jungle. whichever one results in the funniest splash.]
[in the distance, Simba whirs, then plops in the water right after them. a poolbot's work is never done, witness to a murder or not.]
[All it took was the right amount of stalling and leading the horse to water. He fucking knew Dave would try and sylladex him with a sturdy yeeting canonball straight into the depths below, so all he had to do was... avoid that... somehow.
So in a game where he knows he's going to lose, no matter what the situation was, he decided it would've been better to make losers out of the both of them. And it paid off. It paid off so, so well. Simba's revenge. Pure, unadulterated, revenge.
Ryuji's head pops up above water, a cheeky sort of feature splayed in every nook and cranny of his wide smile as he wades upward and tries to push his already too long hair out of his eyes.
The only thing that sucks about any of this is that he's fully clothed, and it always feels weird to be in water with a shirt on. He swims over to the edge of the pool, an arm draped over the precipice and starts to tug upward on his tee. Hey, he found this one in the pool to begin with, it's like it was just. Coming home, or something like that. A sopping pile of ZOMG piles up alongside him. And true to meathead fashion, it comes to question in his mind whether or not Dave has ever seen him shirtless? He should have more shame.
[if there's any shame at all Ryuji should be feeling at this moment, it's all the terrible pirate jokes he managed to cram into a single five-or-so-minute period. and Dave's all but ready to call him out on it, that his inner monkey pirate is metaphorically not quite so inner, is it, when he pops back above the water's surface, half-heartedly grumbling at his loss. you don't go into death matches like this not expecting to go down with the ship, as it were.]
[he brings a palm to his own forehead, trying to slick back his bangs. that familiar looking wisp of a curl stays stubbornly in place, despite ... pretty much all the odds.]
What, rated R for Ryu — [he suddenly stops, that insult dissolving in the water, as he's spotted a rather morbid looking pattern, a zombie virus branding along Ryuji's back. and he silently swims over to get a better look.]
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[lots of strategies that begin with s. and, yeah, all of those would probably earn him the label of sdirty scheater.]
[but he quirks an eyebrow at the question, the challenge, thumbs casually dug into his pockets.]
No idea what you mean by that.
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It calls back to when he had to take Dave's shadow on, and knowing that direct encounter with his abilities would lead to utter bullshit going down, and as considers the options here, he'd have to go for a distraction. Strategy. If it wouldn't be so obvious, he'd be rubbing his chin right now.]
Oh, y'know. You could try to toss me in there. But... I'm pretty sure it's like. Definitely mutually assured destruction. How about we call it quits while we're ahead, yeah?
[A confident step forward as he approaches Dave, much like he's offering trust to be taken.]
Eh, I got a towel for ya. [A few more steps.] You're not too cold, are you? [Still trying to close some of that distance between them. He offers out a hand to Dave.] Let's get you dried off.
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[it'd probably boil down to who has more endurance.]
[but to answer Ryuji's question, he is a kid who hails from the South and whose fated bullshit quest planet is literally just a giant ball of lava. Dave's always a little cold on board this space station, and going for an accidental swim didn't help much.]
You've got a towel. [he says he's got a towel ... but strange, Dave doesn't see one in his hands! he doesn't make any sudden moves, though — he's just watching to see how close Ryuji is ultimately going to get to him.]
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Kind of works out, though. At least, the heat differentials. Ryuji runs pretty warm, and the second the temperature kicks it up a few notches to spicy tomato levels of heat, he's in a tanktop and shorts. Running the air-con a lot wasn't very cost effective, though, so he learned to endure it more often than not. He's still the first to complain about it, though.
He does have a towel, though. He definitely has a towel. It's just not anywhere in sight. Ryuji knows this, and yet.]
It's just outside the fitness center.
[It's a gambit, of course, and he knows he's playing with fire. Which is good, considering there's a pool right-over-there. Not backing down, he takes another step forward toward Dave.]
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[but then, Dave finally goes ahead and tosses a strategy out into the air. because it's a verbal one.]
Hold that thought a second, Mufasa. Before you dunk me, I wanna ask you something.
[dude. that's the oldest trick in the book, you really think Ryuji's gonna fall for it.]
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Uhh...
[It might be the OLDEST TRICK IN THE BOOK, but he's still prone to fall for those, and he tilts his head to the side, 10 degrees pivoted from being upright in that way he usually does when he's thinking of something.
Yeah, doesn't strike him as odd at all.]
Sure. Whatcha got for me?
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[of course, even the best poker players have their tells. like how Dave folds his arms across his chest, pursing his lips, perhaps hinting that he's got his own dunking scheme currently whirring away in his head.]
Some jazz music, actually. Like, some jazz music that started playing out of no where in my room the other day.
You wouldn't know anything about that, huh?
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But he'll try it. He'll try this foreign, weird concept of "not telling the truth," and just shrug it off.]
... Dunno what the hell... y...you're talkin' about, dude.
[Except for the way that he audibly stutters in the middle of it. Or any number of the following giveaways:
-he doesn't look directly at Dave's shades
-he delayed a response that wasn't immediate and instinctive
-the upward change in ton of his voice at the word dude
Whatever, he's fucked.
It was a great prank.]
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[but yeah, it's true, it was a great prank, he'll admit it. and you can bet he'll also be using the space station AI responsibly to return the pranking favor.]
Really? I was gonna tell whoever was responsible thanks.
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Maybe Dave really liked the smooth stylings of jazz circa way too goddamn long ago. Maybe he had a dance party right then and there. Ryuji follows this train of thought, because he's gullible sometimes, and why would Dave ever lead him astray, right? Right?
He bites down on one corner of his lip, and nods. Well, if he was really into the entire thing, he definitely did Dave a favor.]
Must be that, uh. That station AI. Christy.
[Fuck, Ryuji. No.
That's not its name at all.]
no subject
[it's Dave's turn to close the gap between them, then.]
Well, someone had to tell Kristoff which room to drop off some smooth jazz.
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Yeah, he's definitely making this really easy. His lips twitch, and he tries to straighten them out by force, restricting and forbidding the muscles in his mouth to start turning upward in concavity. He'll just... reach out, now that they're close enough and place a hand right on his shoulder.
If he's going down, he's going to at least try to take Dave with him.]
Maybe Crystal just likes that style of music, are we really gonna judge?
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[mutually assured destruction it is, then. what's Dave got to lose? Simba already dunked him to the murky depths once already today, may as well go down in a blaze of pseudo vengeful glory.]
I'm just saying, chatbots don't get random wild hairs about sharing their music tastes on their own, right? [Dave, don't ... don't call the station's AI a chatbot??]
I figure someone must have been, I dunno. Texting with Cynthia or something.
[he punctuates that by lifting his hand to his own shoulder, casually wrapping his fingers around the top of Ryuji's wrist.]
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I mean, technically speakin', I don't think Carol actually has hair.
[He can't believe Dave is insinuating musical infidelities with the station's chatbot. Whatever a chatbot was.]
But if someone were chatting her up, and I definitely ain't sayin' it was me, but if someone were, and the conversation just sorta went in that direction, then whoever that someone is, must've really wanted to share something kinda beautiful with you. I mean, I'd be, like, completely honored.
[Somehow he never saw this coming.
And his eyes follow toward that hand; the moment is near and he doesn't have enough time. Jig's up. Whatever happens, it'll be hot pursuit. He needs to react quickly to throw him off guard. Ryuji uses his other hand to pull Dave closer, hand against the skinny of his back. One hand raises up higher on his shoulder, and the second he can, he's going to aim to sweep him right off his feet.
That is, if Dave doesn't already have a plan up his sleeve.]
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[got it. but defensively speaking, from the perspective of his original intent here, which is to toss a dry boyfriend in the pool, Dave's kind of gotten himself in a precarious situation. a ... kind of nice one, actually, if you remove the threat of getting turbo dunked back in the deep end.]
[though, if he doesn't move from his current position, it wouldn't take much more than a grand sweeping gesture to send him sprawling backwards, and Ryuji is certainly strong enough to pull that off.]
[but Dave, as they are both well aware, is a dirty cheater.]
[he grabs hold of both of Ryuji's arms, trying to hold them best as he can against Ryuji's sides in an attempt to prevent him from moving well enough to pull off whatever maneuver he's gunning for. and if that doesn't work? he's battening down the hatches and refusing to let go.]
[it's a friendly warning, too. you know. a last chance to back down before Dave really starts cheating.]
no subject
[He thought he established very early on that it wasn't hi...
yeah, okay, he can't even play it off any more. He smirks as Dave starts to control the threat in the room. That threat being Ryuji, of course.]
Yeah, fine, whatever, I did it.
[Uh.
Dave, what are you doing.]
This sure is like. A really weird effin' way to give a dude a hug. [And yet, he knows exactly what Dave's doing, playing coy about it isn't going to get himself anywhere near constructive.]
This is how you're supposed to do it. [He exerts opposing pressure against the constraining motion, and, yeah. One of those Newtonian laws he never learned about. For every action there's an opposite and equal reaction, right? Or, more importantly, what goes around fucking comes right back around.]
What're you. [IT'S NOT PANIC IN HIS VOICE AT ALL.] Dave, c'mon. Dude.
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[and he volleys that smirk right back at Ryuji, grip around his arms tightening. there's no escaping, bro — they're officially in the shit now.]
[in the pool. about to take a trip to "in the pool." one of those.]
What? This is how I always give hugs. You ripping on my form?
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Well there's a few things I know about you and I'm gonna say that that's buuuuullshit. [There's a roller coaster of intonations in the elongation of the u in that word.
And god, he masochistically plays along with this, like he knows he should break free of his grasp, but like a moth heading straight into the campfire, he remains morbidly curious as to whether or not he's ACTUALLY GOING TO DO IT.]
Do I... do I get any last words?
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[is exactly what Dave's hubris is saying. you know, the cocky confidence he's built up after winning all their previous, admittedly very goofy rounds of wrasslin'. though, for all he knows, Ryuji's got some last-ditch effort to break free and lob him over his shoulder, sending him back into the water and officially putting Ryuji on the Dave vs. Ryuji scoreboard. sports board?]
Yeah, all right. Let's hear 'em.
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You know, the whole... wanting more time with him, etc etc.
That's not the right context now, as he's literally being forced to walk the plank. Which, strikes him from deep within.]
A fitting way for a pirate to finally go.
[Ryuji, he has no idea who Captain Kidd was, what the hell are you doing.]
With my last breath before this scurvy mutinous [Scurvy's not an adjective, what the fuck-] attempt at my life, I'd like to just say.
[He fathers the courage in his chest to say what's really on his mind, here.]
Penis.
[Okay, he's said his peace.]
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[don't you dare laugh, Dave Strider!!!]
[he leans in closer, intent on regaining the control over the situation that he had before Ryuji let loose with probably the smartest thing that either of them have ever said.]
Pretty goddamn moving, dude. [something highly amused is threatening the corners of his mouth again.]
I mean, you're still going in the pool. But don't worry, I'll make sure to throw your Emmy for best speech in after you.
[they don't ... give Emmys for that, Dave. but yeah, he's going to go ahead and start casually shuffling Ryuji to the edge of the pool — if Ryuji's going to fight back, now's the time to do it.]
no subject
Except, that's not how any of this is going- in any of this sad state of affairs. He nods, smiling somewhat---]
I think the only thing that's moving is me, to be completely real here.
[There's a phantom experience of his body getting thrown in the water, and the hair on the back of his neck just stands completely on end.
Fuck it.
It's a suicide mission, he's going for it. Ryuji pulls backward, his grappled state working in his benefit, because even if Dave lets go, he's going to try to grab onto his wrist and take him down with him. EAT DIRT, DUDE.
There's the fall of civilized society, right fucking there, as Ryuji feels water his his back, and he quickly tries to close his eyes and hold his breath. Alone, or with a punk ass, mutinous boyfriend in tow?]
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Hey— !!
[but, really, knowing Ryuji as well as he does by this point, he should have expected that he'd immediately go for the self-sabotage option! but, he didn't. and so, there he goes, sprawling into the stampede right along with the king of Pride Rock. or the jungle. whichever one results in the funniest splash.]
[in the distance, Simba whirs, then plops in the water right after them. a poolbot's work is never done, witness to a murder or not.]
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So in a game where he knows he's going to lose, no matter what the situation was, he decided it would've been better to make losers out of the both of them. And it paid off. It paid off so, so well. Simba's revenge. Pure, unadulterated, revenge.
Ryuji's head pops up above water, a cheeky sort of feature splayed in every nook and cranny of his wide smile as he wades upward and tries to push his already too long hair out of his eyes.
The only thing that sucks about any of this is that he's fully clothed, and it always feels weird to be in water with a shirt on. He swims over to the edge of the pool, an arm draped over the precipice and starts to tug upward on his tee. Hey, he found this one in the pool to begin with, it's like it was just. Coming home, or something like that. A sopping pile of ZOMG piles up alongside him. And true to meathead fashion, it comes to question in his mind whether or not Dave has ever seen him shirtless? He should have more shame.
Nah.]
Sorry for makin' this... rated aRRRR, matey.
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[he brings a palm to his own forehead, trying to slick back his bangs. that familiar looking wisp of a curl stays stubbornly in place, despite ... pretty much all the odds.]
What, rated R for Ryu — [he suddenly stops, that insult dissolving in the water, as he's spotted a rather morbid looking pattern, a zombie virus branding along Ryuji's back. and he silently swims over to get a better look.]
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