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The jester bounced onto the fringes of the crowd as they offered their congratulations to the Red Victor. Heath had dropped his jaw in amazement seeing the massive metal form achieve such an aerodynamic trajectory. "Well done, Rook!" he cheered with enthusiasm, pumping the air with his fist. Could he be sure he wasn't a knight with such a leap?
L’aire clapped and horrayed. “That was amazing Rook!” Man, is there anything this Metalflesh wasn’t capable of? From the time she first met the Chessman, she was astounded by what he could do given his nature. It was true that with practice and perseverance, you could do anything.
She could probably do a cheer, but seriously, they weren’t in high school. And….she’d probably look ridiculous.
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Swilla turned to the Shadowsoul, flashing him a grin full of razor-sharp teeth. "Thanks man," he said to Perry. "You ain't all that bad yourself." He paused for a moment, looking down at the Fairest lawyer as he introduced himself.
"They call me Big Swilla," he said in response, flashing Perry that grin of his again.
"Thank you, Terri, L'aire, Heath. It was great competing against you all," Rook replied, smiling at the corner of his mouth. His gaze flickered to Anya as she complimented him on the jump, and the softness that she inspired in him stole across his expression.
It would be good, he thought, to say something warm and meaningful. Something that would sum up how important it was to him that she'd been impressed.
"Thanks, sweetheart."
That was all that came to mind.
John walks forward to congratulate the Red Victor, once more taking a moment to quell his rising fear of the purple predator who seemed to be permanently at the chessman's side. When she wasn't tormenting innocent smiths, anyway. It was becoming obvious to the darkling that if he wanted to spend any time in Rook's company, he would simply have to suppress his fear - and it wasn't as if she'd done anything to him.
Yet. Though it could be worse, he mused, glancing over at the massive reptilian man who'd scored third place.
Out loud, he merely offers his congratulations to the winner.
"Well done, Rook! How far was that, anyway?"
"Thirty-three feet," Rook said, glancing sidelong at the Darkling. He smiled slightly at the corner of his mouth. "Thanks for the congratulations. Very much appreciated. Not a bad leap yourself, either."
Rook had to admit, despite the constant need to strive...
...he was a chesspiece. Sometimes, he just liked to win.
After all, he was the Red Victor.
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