okay so i got this random idea rn but how would the ros react to the mc getting into a physical fight with someone?
E presses a wet cloth to your brow, a disapproving look on their face as they dab away the blood. "You have to think things through a little more. What am I going to do if you get really hurt? You're lucky this was the worst of it..." they chide before pressing a hand to your cheek, "...At least you're safe. Just don't forget what I said! You need to be more careful!"
R flops down on the couch next to you with an exhausted sigh as you press a wet cloth to your split brow.
"I suppose it could have been worse," R mutters, crossing their legs as they lean back against the cushions. "If I wasn't there to bail you out, how do you think it would have gone? You're not always going to have an attractive mediator to vouch you out of jail, you know."
"Attractive?" you mock incredulously.
R puts their hands up, defeated, "See? Now I'm regretting it. I'm too kind to you."
The two of you share a small moment of laughter.
L stares at you with a mixture of worry and disapproval, a stilling silence hanging in the room as they await your response.
You take the wet cloth off, glancing down at the speck of blood-stained on its surface. "Does it matter why I did it?"
"I suppose it doesn't. My answer may still be the same," L's hands tighten, "I don't understand why you would resort to violence above all things. I'm certain there were better options -- different methods to diffuse the situation. Do you truly find this to be an acceptable resolution? When the animosity has only been elevated? That seems a hollow victory to me."
V slaps your hand away, "Don't touch."
"Right, right," you sigh, laying your head down on the couch arm and staring up at the rotating ceiling fan. V hovers over you, shaking a powder onto your wound.
"Why didn't you call me?" they murmur accusatorily, "I could have handled it."
"It was just a little fistfight. I can handle it."
"As the Commander, it's your duty to avoid unnecessary risk. It's my duty to fight."
"Why're you so serious about-- Ah! Hey!" you wince as V puts pressure on your wound, causing it to sting. You see their brow furrow minutely.
"Part of the healing process. No complaining," they respond strictly, slapping your hand away once more.
P brushes away a streak of blood from the corner of their mouth, glancing behind them towards you. "Dumbass."
"I heard that, you dipshit," you growl back at them, dabbing the wound with a wet cloth.
"Trying to pick another fight already?"
P makes a humming noise, brushing a knuckle against their cheek, "At least you can land a hit. Once in a while."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
"Shut up. I'm just pointing it out. Don't try to inflate it."
You chuckle to yourself, stretching an arm, "I guess you're not too shabby either. There are worse people to make a rival out of."
"A rival huh...?" P stares past the red strands of hair that dip past their forehead, resting their eyes on the dark silhouette of your shadow on the wall. They close their eyes, a small smile working against their lips, "You're such a dumbass."
M pats their lap with a calming smile, "You need...to rest..."
You attempt to hide the rising blush behind your hand as you press a wet cloth to your wound, "I-It's alright, I think I'm alright--"
Before you can move to escape, M presses their hands on your cheeks and pulls you down. You accept your fate as you stare up at M's pleased look.
"You don't...need to be...so shy...I'm good...at these...kinds of things...too...Just leave it...to me..."
You feel a tender hand rest against your cheek as M presses the cloth against your brow, humming a small tune.
"The tune you always hum."
"It was...a song...my mom...used to sing...But I...forgot the lyrics..." M's eyes glance away from you for a moment, "Do you...like it...?"
"It sounds really nice," you say earnestly, attempting to ignore the intense blush spreading across your face.
"It sounded better...with words...If I learn them...I'll sing it to you..."
"O-Oh, you don't have to-"
"Ah-Ah," M taps a finger against your lips and wags it, "I've...already decided...So look forward...to it...Okay...?"
"You don't have anything to worry about..."
Slender fingers caress your cheeks, lifting your head and coaxing your eyes to open. Dark eyes stare into yours, their lids lifting in delight.
Your voice is slow to escape past your lips, "Raven? What...are you doing here...?"
"I've always been with you," they brush your cheek while inspecting the freshly opened wound on your brow, collecting a trickle of blood with their fingers, "We'll have to get something for this. You made me worried, you know."
The wound finally becomes apparent to you, along with the stinging memory of an assaulter's fist. Your eyes open wider.
Raven moves your head back to face them, pulling you into a gentle embrace as they stroke the back of your head. "It's alright. You don't have anything to worry about..."
Their dark eyes look onwards, reflecting a world of spattered crimson centered around a indistinguishable mass of flesh and stained bones.
"You don't have to worry. I'll take care of everything for you."
"Eh, you're already lookin' a little scuffed up, friend," S gives you a bright smile as he strolls in the middle of your fight, "I heard there was some troublin' rousin', but I ain't expect you'd cause somethin'!"
"U-Uh, that's..." you glance sheepishly at your assaulter past the trickle of blood beginning to flow down your sightline.
They glare at the newcomer, "Who're you?"
"Oh me? I ain't no one ya know. But ya know," S justs a thumb towards you, "They've gone an' helped me out a bit. So...I'll be returnin' the favor!"
S grabs at your opponent's tie, pulling them down as they wind up to smash their forehead into theirs. As they fall, S scrapes loose dirt onto their shoe and kicks it into their face, a smug smirk on their face.
"Hey, ya ain't lookin' half bad like that. How'd'ya feel about comin' back to do it again later?"
S waves the aggressor off as they retreat before turning to you, their expression turning intensely serious as they look at your wound. "Are you okay?"
"Huh? Oh, uh, yes. You're..." the words drop off as S's face hovers mere inches before yours. Unable to hide the heat creeping up your face, S folds their arms.
"What's up? Ya gettin' sick? That stupid idiot must'a done a number on ya."
"I-I'm just a little...dehydrated...?"
"Ohh, I getcha! Well that's good, we can fix that!" S ruffles your head with a smirk, forgetting all about the welting wound.
"Oh right! Whoops," they laugh, not seeming very apologetic.
F stares at your wound, a finger tapping under your chin as they hold your jaw steady.
Your move your eyes away, "I don't know."
"Are you going to let go now?"
F's finger halts its drumming, "And why should I do that?"
You slide your eyes back, taking in F's jade irises as they stare intensely into yours. You clench your jaw in annoyance.
"I'm not a pet you keep."
F smiles pleasantly, "Yet it seems you're in need of a keeper. Why else would you bring such trivalties to me?"
"That's..." your mind runs blank, only circling back to their gentle smile. You look away once more, "It's nothing."
"Yes, I am certain it is," F whispers, pulling out a piece of cloth and pressing it against your wound, "It is still my place to wonder."
"Why would it be? You're no keeper."
"Yet you come to me in times of strife and suffering? You are quite an indecisive pet."
"Get one that does what you want then," you bite.
"Oh, no, you misunderstand," F's lips part in a serpentine smile, "I'm not seeking obediance. Heeling is half the reward."
