[Ryuji pushes forward, creating distance between David and Achilles, intercepting the space between the two. With his back turned to the artist, it clicks, and the blond punk smiles right back at his companion. There's a glint of understanding here, and he decides to play the part that Achilles has opened the door for him to play. Intrepidly, he makes it look like he's putting himself in the line of fire to hold the green haired menace at bay.]

Achilles? [H..uh... it feels kind of right when he says it. Ryuji can only assume that this is his real name. The Great Achilles? Okay. He'll roll with it.

Uh, shit. What's his line?]

Achilles, put down your spear, we're just talking, alright? You don't have to go 'n kill this poor guy. [He takes another step forward, the tip awfully close to his chest.] Gimme five minutes with 'em. Okay?

[He wants a fucking Oscar for this later.

But when he feels the tension rising, he backs away for a moment and turns to David, crouching down on the floor to give him a look over. A ghost from the past of Antiquity, and a light haired youth wearing a skeleton over his face. This image will definitely haunt him for years to come.]

Jacques-Louis David. I need your help. I'm not gonna threaten you like my buddy over here, m'kay? Listen up, because this is hella important. There's gonna be a vote to kill the king. I need you stay in your house for a few weeks, lay low for a bit. [Ryuji goes on to improvise-] As you can see, history's all kinda outta whack, so we're trying to fix it before this guy over here goes back home.

So Monsieur. Can I have your word on it?

[Poor David. He's the world's nerdiest Achilles fanboy, and here he was, on the roof of his house, talking to him in Greek and threatening to kill him. Ryuji would almost feel bad if it weren't for---






Owch. What the hell, man? He rubs his ass and turns his head around to glare at Achilles. Look, he was giving it his best. When COST gave him a new vocabulary and language to use, they were keenly lacking in the ability for Ryuji to actually sound refined, in any sort of lexicography. But even his scowl is met with indifference as Achilles dons the mask of best supporting character ("Bad Cop" in the credits role), and starts to dictate how this exchange is going to continue.

If anything, he knows that were the roles to be reversed, chances are Ryuji wouldn't take this laying down like this. He'd fight back, recklessly, and wind up with a spear through his gut.

"P-Please, don't hurt me, I'll do as you say! Yes, yes! I swear it! What necromancy has brought the most beloved of the Greeks to my estate!"

Oh? Sorry, did he mean Ryuji? This mage was still busy rubbing out the sore that was most definitely going to turn into a bruised tuchus.]

Yeah, so, if you don't want a visit from my friend here, you better stay inside. I hear it's dangerous at night.

[Well. It was. Ryuji almost got kidnapped once. At least he can speak from the heart on the matter.]

Think we got the message across?

[That was cringe-worthy, Achilles. Either way, Ryuji nods, and crosses his arms, looking over to the Heroic Spirit.]

Eh, we've already crushed him enough today. Let's go.

[Oh... there's the matter of getting him back to his room, right? David can figure it out himself, he's a big boy.

He heads to the edge of the roof away from the both of them, expecting that Achilles would be on his trail.

Come on dude, don't let my dramatic exit down, gimme a hand here.]

[Damn straight, he's going to struggle!

This was his one goddamn chance to look cool and Achilles goes and ruins it. Ryuji is so beyond pissed it's not even funny, and he flails almost the entire way down, aiming a fist straight at his side.]

You asshole! You ruined it. This is ruined. This mission? It sucks. Put me down, dude! I ain't cargo!!

[Thank god he's back on firm ground. He's done crazy jumps before, but never while hoisted at the waist, and always of his own volition. Ryuji breathes through his nose like a bull in winter, and gives him a bit of a shove, landing his foot straight into the crater that Achilles had formed with his own feet and wobbles a little bit to stand up straight.

UGH

This can't get any worse. He just wanted to be cool.]

You could've... I DUNNO, MAN. ANYTHING BUT THAT?

[He hopes David doesn't hear him.]

Even an effin' piggy back ride woulda been better than what you just did. Seriously, you're ruining my street cred, [What street cred? But he appends his statement with a bit of an upward flick in his intonation.] Achilles.

Okay, dude. Spill the beans.

[Was that lecturing? Sounded more like whining. Oops- he'll have to learn to tread a little more carefully with his tantrums. And he's feeling that his shouting is going on deaf ears, anyway when suddenly--- he's. He's gone.]

Did you seriously just tell me to eat your dust?

[All for some 18th century softcore porn?




Aggravated, he pulls off his mask and dips it back into the fold of his waistband. He kicks up some cobblestone from the ground, folds his arms and starts walking away from the mansion.]

This asshole.