Khemkhaengawut was so absorbed into his egocentric victory that he quite missed the burning anger that had arisen within the man below. If he was to look at him, he would have seen him turn from blue to red due to that anger, yet once he did he only saw the incoming projectile flying swiftly towards him. Still flexing, he was unable to relax the chest that begged to receive the hit and shatter the vase in a last display of superiority, similar to a Jamoura thumping at his chest. Despite what his appearances may tell, Khemkhaengawut wasn’t stupid. If that object reached him directly his ribs would all shatter like straw. Unable to do much in the little moment he had before the object reached him, with his last amount of him he would hop backwards just as the vase was about to reach him. Thankfully for him, the plan worked, and he found the vase only indirectly shoving him down and not crushing him as it was supposed to. Unfortunately for him, however, he did find himself falling backwards from his high position down to the pool.
It seemed as a Jamoura itself had fallen within the placid waters, as two huge splashes arose from the water before the falling location was tainted with a dark brown color. It was the dirt from the now broken vase, spreading all over and almost giving the appearance that the wide-eyed man that emerged from the waters had let the contents of his intestines leak out. The Chaktawe didn’t seem hurt, or at least not physically. He was clearly in some sort of shock, as if he had just witnessed something no man should ever experience, some sort of abnormal and godly display of strength that… really angered him. Snapping out of said shock, he would look behind at the broken vase and afterwards towards its thrower. “What do you think you’re doing, you blue bastard!?” His voice yelled out, raising his good arm to point towards the attacker. “You could’ve killed me with that!” He now began quickly walking through the waters, something that wasn’t really easy. “I will teach you respect, rainbow man!”
The closer he advanced, the more he was prone to engage in a brawl. While he wasn’t a fighter, he surely wasn’t a coward. On those very moments, a small group of monks made their way into the empty bathhouse. The trio consisted of two men and one woman that were clearly looking to calm the situation with their fists, and their uniform and simple robes stated whom they were. They didn’t seem to have any words, and all they did was quickly advanced towards the two males that were getting closer and closer.
It seemed as a Jamoura itself had fallen within the placid waters, as two huge splashes arose from the water before the falling location was tainted with a dark brown color. It was the dirt from the now broken vase, spreading all over and almost giving the appearance that the wide-eyed man that emerged from the waters had let the contents of his intestines leak out. The Chaktawe didn’t seem hurt, or at least not physically. He was clearly in some sort of shock, as if he had just witnessed something no man should ever experience, some sort of abnormal and godly display of strength that… really angered him. Snapping out of said shock, he would look behind at the broken vase and afterwards towards its thrower. “What do you think you’re doing, you blue bastard!?” His voice yelled out, raising his good arm to point towards the attacker. “You could’ve killed me with that!” He now began quickly walking through the waters, something that wasn’t really easy. “I will teach you respect, rainbow man!”
The closer he advanced, the more he was prone to engage in a brawl. While he wasn’t a fighter, he surely wasn’t a coward. On those very moments, a small group of monks made their way into the empty bathhouse. The trio consisted of two men and one woman that were clearly looking to calm the situation with their fists, and their uniform and simple robes stated whom they were. They didn’t seem to have any words, and all they did was quickly advanced towards the two males that were getting closer and closer.
