Ro Vasuva
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Of course, that was part of the point. Nobody lived here anymore. There had clearly been a fire, and that was probably why nobody lived here anymore, which struck Ro as being all kinds of stupid. The place had probably been plenty unpleasant before the fire, given it's generally swampy nature. He knew the place had once been inhabited by the detritus he found that tended to indicate habitation.
"Just as well there's no one about," Ro continued, talking to himself because there was nobody else around to talk to. "Anyone who deliberately lives in a swamp was probably an idiot. I don't think I'd really like to meet them. Idiots being, well, idiots, and generally not much good for anything except playing with."
Blomkvist
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"And, me, I am in the mood to play," he went on, continuing to sound menacing as his sharp-toothed grin heavily implied that he was thinking that the red-maned lion was enough of an idiot to make something fun to play with in this scenario.
"What do you think, idiot boy? Shall I play with you until you're all broken and bloody, and then leave your corpse to be swallowed by the muck?" Ordinarily Blomkvist didn't go in for that sort of thing, actually, but intimidating people was sort of what Stormborn did, and he enjoyed that.
Ro Vasuva
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And yet Ro was not much given to surprised expletives, or indicating surprise in any way, really. He had grown up learning to keep his face either blank, condescending, or fierce, for the most part. When he had been training a Neumar he had learned also to be seductive, but that part of his repertoire would hardly serve him here. The part where he hid any sort of startled reaction was far more useful.
"I don't think you would find it as entertaining as you believe," he answered in a tone that was both calm and menacing. Two could play at that game, and Ro had a demon inside him to help.
Blomkvist
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"But why don't you tell me why you think I wouldn't find the experience entertaining? You clearly like to talk. I heard you jabbering on to yourself for miles across the swamp, like you were the only person around." He didn't add the word idiot to the end of that because, really, there was no reason to do so. It was so clearly implied it practically echoed in the breath after he finished speaking.
It was just a little uncanny how the red-maned lion hadn't even twitched when Blomkvist revealed himself. Perhaps Blomkvist hadn't been as well-hidden as he'd thought. The possibility irritated the pink and white lion. It wasn't like it was easy to hide in a burned swamp when you had Blomkvist's coloration.
Ro Vasuva
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"It seems like you're pretty fond of the sound of your own voice, too," Ro pointed out. "After all, I'm hearing a great deal of talking and considerably less of my own crying or begging than I thought I would be, if you were really in any sort of position to make good on your threat to break me."
He smiled a sinister smile that some ladies found devastatingly attractive but sensible people recognized as a predator's grin. "Please, do give it a try. I've never met a lion of your coloration with this much spine to him. It's like seeing a talking rock or something. Simply amazing."
That much was true. The white lion would have been a slave in Ro's old pride, based solely on the color of his coat. That weak pink would not have been sufficient to save him from that fate.
Blomkvist
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"Let me guess: you would expect me to be more feminine and flowery in my demeanor. Am I right? Well ******** that and ******** you. I'm a Stormborn reaver, and I think you'll find my coat a good deal more intimidating when it's stained red with your blood." It was a response he'd given so many times he could just about speak it in his sleep. It still had a good deal of bite behind it, however, because he was not going to allow any slurs cast on his courage. He had fought in a number of holmgang challenges because of idiots like this one, who thought coat color had anything to do with personality.
Ro Vasuva
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As he spoke it occurred to him that with as much mud as the white lion had covering him presumably for camouflage purposes, unless he was spectacularly clumsy and had fallen numerous times, there wasn't much chance of him getting blood on his coat even in the unlikely event that Ro did come out of a fight badly. Should they ever get in one.
"I am more than willing to fight you, if that is what you want to do, but I am also willing to forget all the insults you have spoken to me if you will do the same, and have us each return to what we were doing before. Me, to seeking my father, and you to...crouching in the mud, I suppose."
Blomkvist
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He was actually not all that surprised when the outlander suggested a peaceful solution to their encounter. Someone who loved to talk that much would probably think the best way out of a potential fight was to just let bygones be bygones. After all, they'd never see one another again. Unless Blomkvist took him as a thrall, but the idea of dragging an injured or unconscious lion across this mud was horribly unappealing.
"I suppose we could do that, you and I," he allowed. "But I don't see what insults you have to forgive me for. It seems you're getting the better end of the deal."
Ro Vasuva
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"Perhaps you're right about that, reaver. But you did begin this conversation by implying that I was an idiot and that you would enjoy toying with me, also implying that I'm weak enough to have been made into a toy. Personally, I find that kind of insulting. But I am willing to let it pass in this instance, because I happen to think this mud is disgusting and I don't want to get any more of it on me than I have to."
He barely stopped himself from saying more, remarking on the white lion's mud-covered fur and possibly opening up a new avenue for argument, defeating the whole purpose of his proposal.
Blomkvist
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"Well, don't die in bed," he bid the dark-coated lion. It was a mark of respect for him to use a Stormborn phrase to bid him farewell, or to bid him farewell at all, for that matter, but probably the outlander wouldn't realize it. Why the Stormborn didn't rule the whole continent was sometimes a mystery to Blomkvist.
Rather than puzzle the mystery of the Stormborn's lack of conquests, Blomkvist picked his way through the mud, walking in the opposite direction to the outlander and deliberately flicking his tail to get mud on him in passing. Oops.