Blood-red Moon

If Steak claimed he completely hated the aromatic scents from the bottles of shampoo – or any other fanciful product Red Wine had deemed necessary to use, it would actually be a lie. The lathering was pleasant, though he’d sooner associate the sweetly perfumed smells with the Food Soul currently scrubbing at his hair rather than himself. It just didn’t suit him, and there was no doubt others would feel similarly when they eventually picked up on the fragrance as he passed by; the thought of which caused Steak to wrinkle his nose in distaste. 

A half-hearted complaint had been made, and in return Red Wine had splashed him with even more of the water. Spitting and spluttering out the small amount that had gotten in his mouth, Steak decided to get his revenge by suddenly shaking his head like a dog might it’s fur after jumping into a pool of water, hopefully soaking the other in the process.

“It’s not an argument, it’s a statement,” he countered. If it wasn’t an argument before, it would be now, but compared to any past clashes, this would still fall under the category of ‘playing nice’. 

“It’s called training. Perhaps if you spent less time sulking about in the shade and joining in, you might get close to beating me, for once.” 

"Hrmf." Red Wine huffed smugly when the water he'd splashed Steak with had made the red-haired Food Soul sputter; that ought to teach the ungrateful hooligan to complain about his choice of toiletries! However, his 'victory' was short-lived as Steak had retaliated by suddenly shaking the sudsy water off and unto the unsuspecting vampire.

He should've expected that, considering what a mongrel the vulgar swine apparently was!

Not that Red Wine wasn't already wet from the bath water; even as he'd worn an apron to keep the water off as much as possible, some splashes and spills would ensure that his white shirt own clothes would be soaked in no time. As a result, he couldn't even get really angry at Steak for that petty retaliation.

"And it's an utterly ridiculous statement to make." Red Wine insisted, returning to his scrubbing, but with the direction of their little chat was heading to, it was getting harder and harder for him to resist the urge to dunk Steak's head down into the tub.

"I wasn't sulking." Yes, he was. "I was watching how poor your form was, no matter how painful it was upon my sight. And---"

Forget it; he's dunking the heathen's head into the tub, and that's what an offended (and grumpy) Red Wine did.

“And what would you say the solution is?”

“And why are you so concerned?”

“Don’t tell me you’re actually afraid that I’d succeed in containing that vulgarity that is your exposed midriff.”

“Nonsense. Any set of abdominals can be contained.”

“…m-m-mushroom chicken stew…” She mumbled, her eyes darting away as she was afraid to meet his gaze. Her fingers pushed together again and again as she tried to keep her nerves down. She just had to try again, right? There was no way she’d mess up that badly again. Right? Usually she did so well!

It’s impossible for Pink to hide her disappointment as she heard his words. She was that bad? It made her heart drop her in chest and she brought her hands up to it in an attempt to keep calm. Her previous Master Attendant would be furious over this.

“I’m s-s-sorry, Red…I can m-make you something else!” She tried to fix the situation quickly. Food Souls didn’t scare her, but angry people did. And she had no clue if he was upset with her or not. Or what he’d do if he just so happened to be.

Red Wine felt prompted to look at the rejected dish again, trying to see any semblance to either mushrooms or chicken in it. Alas, he couldn't find any, no matter how hard he looked; it remained a rubbery blob on a plate in his scrutinizing eyes.

"No need for apologies; cooking is no easy feat." Red Wine said, frowning as the admission was a bitter pill to swallow, even for him. But he wasn't anything like a master chef; he's only average at best. Even then, being part of the main fighting force, did he really need to know how to cook?

PROTECTIVE SIBLING STARTERS ( x ) || @spamtasy

“And, quite frankly, I don’t trust what you know.” came Red Wine’s blunt reply. Not that he’s the leading authority on anything himself, but he liked to think that he’s not completely inept at least.

VAMPIRE STARTERS ( x ) || @spamtasy

What a bad, terrible, absolutely irritating day this was! While Red Wine didn’t mind lending a hand with kitchen duties, he’d appreciate it better if he was left out from any resulting ‘food fights’ between two arguing Food Souls. As a result, Red Wine was covered in a mess of soy sauce, pastry dough, flour, fish soup, crushed garlic and mixed berry puree. So much for experimenting an easy recipe!

⊰ 🐤 ⊱

                    “Nothing, hm?? Perhaps to you. So many of you Strength category Food Souls commit yourselves to such impressive feats of acrobatics in the midst of combat… I could hardly imagine zipping around so energetically across a battlefield like that!! Maybe in my younger days, ahaha…”

                    Peking Duck spoke as though he were an old man, which was quite at odds with his youthful face, but he’d always been an old soul; even his mannerisms, from the monocle he kept to the way he smoked from a pipe instead of switching to cigars to keep up with the times suggested that he was a man either stuck in the past or clinging to long antiquated nostalgia. In his case, well… Maybe it was a little bit of both? It didn’t stop him from drumming his manicured index finger against the bowl of his pipe, humming in muted excitement while he took in a quick puff of tobacco.

                    "It’s fun to watch. The children were quite enamoured with you. You might have even earned yourself a couple of small, fuzzy fans.”

He was being bombarded with words, flattering words that he found to be rather suffocating. Red Wine could only look back at Peking Duck with a hint of displeasure...Which then turned into a full-fledged annoyed frown at that nasty-smelling smoke.

Waving his hand to dispel the smoke---Great, his glove would be reeking of tobacco later---Red Wine had decided that he didn’t want to stay in the same place as his fellow ‘old ‘ soul for any longer than necessary, if he was going to keep smoking like that. “Spare me the flattery, Peking Duck; you’re stronger than how you present yourself.” he said with a huffy snort. “And, I would appreciate it if you would not smoke around me. Consider it a request.”

“Hm?” Children? At first, Red Wine thought that Peking Duck meant human children; it was only then when he remembered that 'children’ meant ‘ducklings’. “Ugh, I’m not doing this to simply impress anyone; I’m carrying out my duty while impressing anyone.”

@redwineprince

⊰ 🐤 ⊱

                    “I decant even believe the stunt you managed to pull with that Fallen Angel. Where did you think that up??”

                    "That was quite a display!!”

At last that battle was over, even though it’d taken him longer than expected to take the Fallen angel down. Either the enemy was really tough or he’d become lacking...?

What a ridiculous thought! Even if it could also be true.

Mulling over that possibility to himself, Red Wine shook the mess off the blade of his sword with one quick downwards motion, returning it to its scabbard when he was satisfied with its cleanliness. Just as he’d turned around to leave the formerly battlefield, Red Wine was met with praise. Too much praise.

“Ah. That was nothing.” Red Wine replied, after having taken a step back to avoid colliding with Peking Duck. He needn’t tell the other about that minute misstep he’d had earlier.

Tagged by: @spamtasy

Send 💞 for a headcanon about the(potential or not)relationship between my muse and yours || @steaksoul — Relationship doesn’t necessarily have to be romantic!

- (( Disaster. Who trusted these two enough to put them in the same place together?

- (( Kidding aside---No, I’m not kidding at all; these two spell disaster. They can’t go for five minutes without one (or both) of them making an insult towards the other, and often the subject is so petty, one could just cry at how damn petty it is. Then it escalates into bickering, which may end up in a fistfight, or worse a full-blown, no-holds-barred sword duel.

- (( But, the others know that, when it comes to battling Fallen Angels, Red Wine and Steak make one of the best teams. They support each other, often complimenting each other’s attack patterns with well-timed strikes after one another. They can also boost each other’s morale by just standing right next to the other. Just, learn to excuse the ensuing banter, however.

- (( These two can understand each other well, even without the use of words. A single nod or shake of the head. A simple nudge to the side. A little tap to the shoulder, and they’d know what the other is feeling. They’ve even made their own version of the fist-bump/high-five in the form of tapping the blades of their swords together. They can even do it with their backs facing each other.

Send 💞 for a headcanon about the(potential or not)relationship between my muse and yours || @spamtasy — Relationship doesn’t necessarily have to be romantic!

- (( Having had a rather rocky introduction, Red Wine and Spam didn’t seem to be on good terms with each other. At most, they were acting professionally around each other, which Red Wine didn’t mind.

- (( Not to say that Spam doesn’t grate on his nerves at times; Red Wine would sometimes feel like the younger Food Soul was overstepping her boundaries when it comes to his personal matters. But, it’s not Steak-levels of annoyance yet. I don’t think anyone can top that.

- (( If there’s something Red Wine does appreciate about Spam, it’s her own diligence and keen observations. So long as it doesn’t involve him getting criticized, of course.

You got: The Chariot

You! get! shit! done! You’re determined and action-oriented, focused and persistent. Underneath your aggressive spirit, however, you’re also fiercely caring — and can be a protective force to be reckoned with if anyone crosses the people you care about.

Tagged by: @spamtasy

          “I’ll slice your clothes into rags if you say another word!” 

“You’re not wearing clothes. Far from them.”