Didn't tell me that shit before, now did y'? Thought we was goin' home t' try an' pick up what's left a our Divisions. An' lemme tell y', it ain't somethin' I'm lookin' forward t' havin' t' do, but it's gotta get done sooner or later. Guess if they can screw with time at this place too it'll work out fine though.
I'm going to control the time. My mun thinks it'll be funny if I wake up in a space station blaming myself for fucking up the ripple.
[He quirks his eyebrows for a moment, debating whether to explain DEEP MATHEMATICAL SCIENTIFIC SPACE TIME THEORIES to Namur or just say "fuck it."] Either way, have more faith in your captain. [Mess with Namur's hair.] It's what I'm here for, yoi.
[He's flipped and rolled but that's fine. He keeps the momentum going, holding onto Marco's arm so it winds up underneath any time Namur's on his back.]
[Oh, are we doing the curling up thing? Because one of those advantages to being tinier than your eight foot something bull shark bro is that being light as a feather means moving.]
[Nice thing about being eight feet tall and mostly torso is having some seriously long arms. Marco might have gotten out of the way of Namur's headbutt, but fast as the sunlight glints off shiny scales in the sea, Namur grabs both sides of Marco's shirt in one hand and throws him to the ground.]
[Oh good, cuz now he can land on his feet, jump forward to bounce off a wall for height and backflip over Marco again, landing so they're face to face. He drops his bulk and rushes forward, wrapping his brother in a big bear hug.
Or maybe it's just a standard "grab what you can and hang on" grapple.
[Well, Namur was gonna rush Marco right into that wall he just sprang off of, but as his brother goes from fighty to squishy he checks his momentum and it winds up being more like a gentle push. Rawr. But not really cuz this is Namur, so he steps back and just lets one of his arms stay slung over Marco's shoulders.]
Ditto, Feathershit. Let's go find a bar or a club or some shit an' have some fun, huh?
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[Shoves Marco back with his shoulder. With love.]
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I'm going to control the time. My mun thinks it'll be funny if I wake up in a space station blaming myself for fucking up the ripple.
[He quirks his eyebrows for a moment, debating whether to explain DEEP MATHEMATICAL SCIENTIFIC SPACE TIME THEORIES to Namur or just say "fuck it."] Either way, have more faith in your captain. [Mess with Namur's hair.] It's what I'm here for, yoi.
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Know what? Marco's getting snapped at. For the hell of it and because Namur's in the mood to fight. Fight himmmmmm.]
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[WRASSLE TIME!!!!]
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1/2
[BULL SHARK BRO BE MAD WHAT DO?!]
2/2
[TROLOLOLOL.]
[Marco rolls with the tackle, but does his best to also flip and roll Namur along with it.]
[Namur is one of the few Marco will actually play wrestle after all.]
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[Okay guard your stomach bro, because he's gonna knee you hard!]
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OOF!
[But it's cool. You know why? His body automatically curling up as a result means he's got excellent momentum for a headbutt.]
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[Where are you even trying to headbutt?]
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[Then you are so getting kicked over his head man!]
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Or maybe it's just a standard "grab what you can and hang on" grapple.
Either way.]
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[Same thing.]
[Fastest way to calm Marco down forever and ever.]
I love you stupid fish-breath. [Squished!]
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Ditto, Feathershit. Let's go find a bar or a club or some shit an' have some fun, huh?
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[Brofist.]
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As much as we can take a both. Sheheheh!
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