such a pity.

“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.

‘For once’, Steak had taunted…The vampire wasn’t having any of it. How dare he forget that one punch!

“Sounds like you’re just coming up with excuse-- AUGH!”

Before he could even finish his sentence, fanning the flames to one of many of their usual bickering arguments, Red Wine had retaliated in a way Steak had never expected. Head dunked beneath the surface of the water, the bathroom floor was surely soaked as he quickly pushed himself back up, arms braced against the side of the tub as he shot upright into a sitting position. 

Well... at least it had done the job of ridding his hair of shampoo bubbles, but at what cost damnit. 

Turning to glare daggers at the other ( who was feeling ever so smug at how much of a drowned rat he looked, no doubt ) Steak spluttered once more before raising his voice, pointing an incriminating finger at the dark haired Soul.

     “Y-yes, certainly!” She bowed gently, finally letting go of his hand and taking a step back, realizing he may not enjoy her touching him. Usually stepping out of line like that would get her in trouble. Hurt even. Steak wasn’t like her Master Attendant. That was something she needed to keep reminding herself of.

The small food soul left the room for a moment, wanting to refresh if only for a bit. She’d been working non-stop for awhile, and with Jae-seung out, she had the chance to take care of herself.

If only for a moment.

When she came back into the room, she looked a bit perkier, her eyes now shining rather than being as dull as they were. Slender fingers ran through her hair and she gave a gentle smile and bowed once more. It- probably wasn’t necessary with Steak, but that didn’t stop her from doing it.

The bowing was as unnecessary as it was uncomfortable, but with only a nod of his head in return, Steak was left in peace as Pink Lemonade disappeared to prepare for the short trip. 

In the meantime, he sought out the packages that were to be delivered before the end of the day; piling everything into handy boxes for convenience and protection. As he finished closing them up, the sound of footsteps indicated the other Food Soul’s return. Though her hands were still clumsily bandaged, she seemed better than before -- more lively, which came as a relief. 

         “You don’t have to keep doing that, you know,” he spoke as she bowed at him, before hoisting one of the delivery boxes up to carry under his arm.

Gesturing for her to take the other smaller box that remained, it seemed as though they were already ready to leave. 

     She was hastily though carefully putting all the ingredients back, checking over each one in search of damage. Was anything broken ? Bruised ? Crushed ? So far so good. She could only whisper thanks to any divine beings listening out there. Still, she couldn’t help but worriedly bite her lip. His words, however, managed to bring pause. Before any more damage was done… ? Ah, in other words— before she could cause any more, right ?

          Maybe he didn’t mean it that way, but it was her doing. If anything was unusable it would be thanks to her foolish attempt.

     “ A-Ah… Right. I shouldn’t try that again. Silly me. ” She resumed her re-packing but the pace was now slower than before. Head hung just a bit in a poor attempt to hide the guilt on her face. “ I hope you don’t mind my bothering you this time. ” A moment to clear her throat before asking properly. “ Would you please take this to the back once I’m done ? My apologies if it takes time away from your own tasks. ”

If Steak was mostly known for his talents with a sword, then his obvious lack of a way with words would surely be a close second. After only one comment the Food Soul standing before him -- or crouching, now that she’d hurriedly started to check over the ingredients she’d been carrying -- looked just as crushed as the box’s contents potentially could be. 

Shoulders drooping as he exhaled with a quiet sigh, Steak soon joined her in re-packing the ingredients that had fallen; crouching and picking up a fallen apple which he dusted off against his coat before tossing it back into the box. 

          “Just watch where you walk next time?” 

He wouldn’t want to see her trip and get hurt -- even if he was partially to blame here for not noticing Tiramisu’s arrival in the first place. 

       ‘ WOAH! ‘  cool! — well, HOT, really, but cool! bamboo couldn’t do that. at least, not without a fire-making kit, and that took too long to put together in a fight, plus it was really hard not to have his hair catch on fire! either way, for every hot lick of flames, the wild spirit has a choking FLURRY of winds to combat it; reds CLASHING against greens, a smile arcing WIDE with every vibrant swing.

       ‘ hehe, you really ARE pretty good — alright! you’d better get ready, then! ‘  challenges were his favorite, but a fight meant everyone should have been challenging each other: the testing stage was over, now was the real thing. a jump back and his confident focus WARNS the other food soul of incoming. ‘ eat this!‘  bamboo runs, ducks, ROLLS - and a man-sized SAW tears up the floor in its destructive spiral rushing right towards the other. 

As the green-hued winds whip in retaliation against his flames, Steak can only resist the urge to lower his sword in order to shield his face. The more effort he puts in, his fire ( quite literally ) begins to burn brighter, the blade in his hand dangerously absorbing the heat. For an onlooker, it was sure to be quite the show, but armed with only one of his swords, Steak felt as though he was lacking. This really wouldn’t do. 

Bamboo laughs and cheerfully replies, but even if this was a ‘friendly’ match, nobody was pulling any punches anymore. The other leaps backwards, and Steak barely manages to dodge aside as Bamboo comes barrelling forwards once more with an attack the likes of which the fiery Food Soul has never really seen before; the two of them rolling -- but one much more gracefully than the other. 

Scrambling up from his knees, Steak lets go of the rat he’d had nestled in one arm -- dumped on the ground carefully -- and reaches for his second weapon, a longsword similar to the first in shape but differing in design. 

Red Wine didn’t want to admit it, but Steak was far more bearable to be around whenever that uncouth mouth was silent. Even as the red-haired Food Soul was actually humming as his hair was scrubbed at, it only served to tell the noble vampire that he’s doing a good job at giving his comrade-in-arms a warm bath. Of course, a good job done with his hands would only be expected of him!

As this was a very rare opportunity, Red Wine took advantage of the chance to use whatever high-quality bathing products he’d collected, all for the sole purpose of making Steak look and smell more ‘presentable’. If he could get away with dressing the ruffian in fine clothes afterwards, then all the better!

— “You’re making me smell like a woman.”

Red Wine clicked his tongue against his teeth before splashing a hand bucket’s worth of water over Steak’s head to silence his complaints. “Oh, hush you; we are not having this argument a second time.” he huffed, working up a third lather on Steak’s hair. “What’s so wrong with smelling nicely for a change? I daresay you’ve been rolling in mud all day, with the amount of dirt that’s clung upon you.”

“But, I shouldn’t be surprised, considering that it’s you.”

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’. 

nonsexual acts of intimacy --- select from the following for my muse to respond to:

♟ : Patching up a wound

          “Sit. Stay there.” 

You’d sooner think Steak was commanding a dog rather than talking to a brother-in-arms, but there was no time for niceties when the damage taken from their last encounter was becoming increasingly clear now they were in safety. 

The lack of an actual healer around meant Red Wine’s wounds would have to go ignored unless either of them fancied taking the job up themselves. Perhaps it was a feeling of guilt that urged Steak to tend to the other’s injuries now instead of just waiting around. After all, if he’d done a better job at protecting, they wouldn’t have to deal with this in the first place. 

Having disappeared for a short while after insisting Red Wine stay put, Steak eventually returned with a cloth in a bowl of water and some clean bandages; simple supplies he’d seen the likes of Milk or Tiramisu use on himself in the past. Sitting himself beside the Red, Steak clumsily pushed aside strands of dark hair that had become matted with blood to focus on the most prominent cut to the side of his face. 

nonsexual acts of intimacy — select from the following for my muse to respond to:

♤ : Taking a bath together (but not rly)

Unlike other Food Souls who seemed to care far too much about appearances, the horns that curved atop Steak’s head were his only true physical pride. Having them splattered with the spilled blood of a Fallen Angel after battle just wouldn’t do. 

Perhaps his Master Attendant had simply grown tired of watching him try and clean and polish the horns without use of a mirror, or perhaps there was a more caring -- possibly even thankful -- reason as to why she’d tugged the damp cloth from his hand with a tut and a scoff, before doing the job herself. 

Normally, Steak would avoid having anyone touch them at all, but the contented ( dangerously close to smiling! ) expression he wore right now meant there was always an exception for the one he chose to protect.