[ This guy won't actually kill him, he knows. Even if he recognizes that hint of a familiar drawl in the cadence of Mamoru's words, he knows actual murder probably isn't on the table. Not here, not with so many bystanders, not with handlers at the ready to intervene at any moment. Probably. Right?
Even so, when he feels that weight digging into the spot just below his solar plexus, compressing his already strained lungs and making his nerves light up with alarm ... just for a moment, a shiver runs down his spine. Something that's equal parts terror and relief, anxiety and anticipation. As his next breath comes at a shallow wheeze, Gen squeezes his eyes shut, his entire body tensing below Mamoru's weight.
-- then the weight lifts off him. There are too many hands grabbing at him all of a sudden, and Gen stumbles with a startled bark as he finds himself being roughly shoved towards the exit. Pointedly, the exit other than the one Mamoru's being escorted towards, because the handlers here are in no mood to risk having to pull them apart again.
Gen growls and swats those hands aside the moment he realizes what's going on, and while he doesn't try to step back into the ring, he does bear down his weight to stand in place and turn towards Mamoru before he's ushered too far away. ]
You don't get to call me half-assed, old man. [ There's a trace of that same, sleazy drawl creeping into his intonation as well, and Gen shoots Mamoru a provocative smirk, obvious even from the distance the handlers have put between them. ] Don't bother talking big next time if you're not gonna follow through.
[ It's a good thing that's about all he wants to say, because the coliseum handlers bodily shove him towards the exit at this point, clearly exasperated and wanting to liven the mood up with a new, more entertaining match. ]
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Even so, when he feels that weight digging into the spot just below his solar plexus, compressing his already strained lungs and making his nerves light up with alarm ... just for a moment, a shiver runs down his spine. Something that's equal parts terror and relief, anxiety and anticipation. As his next breath comes at a shallow wheeze, Gen squeezes his eyes shut, his entire body tensing below Mamoru's weight.
-- then the weight lifts off him. There are too many hands grabbing at him all of a sudden, and Gen stumbles with a startled bark as he finds himself being roughly shoved towards the exit. Pointedly, the exit other than the one Mamoru's being escorted towards, because the handlers here are in no mood to risk having to pull them apart again.
Gen growls and swats those hands aside the moment he realizes what's going on, and while he doesn't try to step back into the ring, he does bear down his weight to stand in place and turn towards Mamoru before he's ushered too far away. ]
You don't get to call me half-assed, old man. [ There's a trace of that same, sleazy drawl creeping into his intonation as well, and Gen shoots Mamoru a provocative smirk, obvious even from the distance the handlers have put between them. ] Don't bother talking big next time if you're not gonna follow through.
[ It's a good thing that's about all he wants to say, because the coliseum handlers bodily shove him towards the exit at this point, clearly exasperated and wanting to liven the mood up with a new, more entertaining match. ]