Medrod Pendragon
Aoyama Ruins
WHAM!
The speed with which Medrod's face met with his palm was fast enough that it would have given even Nyarlathotep a pause. The force behind it was enough to leave a distinct, red mark on the boy's face... which is why it was good that it was almost immediately covered up by the bright red color that flooded Medrod's face, starting from neck and climbing upwards all the way to his hair. It was a small miracle that even his white mullet didn't become pink out of embarrassment.
"NO!" Medrod practically squawked out loudly enough that even Time Devourer must've heard it; a sound very, very uncharacteristic of him. "I mean... No! Maybe! I don't know! I told you! I'm not good at whole this thing! Thiiiiiis!"
Medrod rapidly, and still vaguely, gestured at himself, both chest and head. Or rather, he waved his arms like he was trying to take flight right then and there to escape the noose he had practically jumped into by opening his big mouth in presence of this damn man. Well, maybe he himself had just positioned himself right in front of the noose. It had been Red, face a question-mark as usual, who pushed him into the death-trap.
With more hushed voice he continued, sucking his rapidly-dwindling cigarette with enough force to create a smoke-cloud.
"It's just the guy who I've talked about was -ergh- and Red said she wanted a rematch with him to settle old scores and that I reminded her of him in all sorts of way and it sounded like she didn't want to have a rematch with me even though I -urgh- thought the battle we had was the best fight I've ever had but she didn't seem to think that," Medrod babbled hastily, not knowing whether he was swimming to the surface or digging his hole even deeper. "But I sure don't want to fight with her again if she thinks it just a bore or not as great as fighting that Zerah guy, screw -argh- that I mean why should I care if she doesn't care plus it's like she treats me like a kid sometimes and that's super annoying and I don't know why but it also makes it seem like I'm the second-rate option and I don't wanna be anyone's second choice when it comes to fights even if she helped me realize how horrible I'd been in the past and I feel beholden to her but even that only goes so far...!"
Nearly hyperventilating, eye swirling in his head, Medrod spat out the butt of his cigarette. His next sentence was somewhere between a wheeze and a whisper.
"And the worst thing is that I have no idea why the fact that this here Zerah bloke was her previous Summoner hella bothers me like I was an idiot or something!"
Once again, when pushed far enough, Medrod's ridiculous Osaka-dialect mixed into his speech producing... interesting results.
To save what face he could, Medrod hastily made shooing gestures towards the distant Red, like she had been an overly curious black cat - always in wrong place at a wrong time, ruining things in her wake.
Go on, git! Git!