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It's easy in the way plenty of coolbloods tend to be around you. Way that makes you equal parts seething cuz they're too up their own ass to realize you should be taken seriously, and grateful.
Cuz it means it takes the bottle from you without question.
An why should it? Poor thing was so nervous round all these folks, it never really interacted with so many clowns before but oh you! You're barefaced just like it and so…hm, small. Human. Safe and warm where you let it touch out of curiosity, let it lean into you when its words start slurring and giggles bubble from its chest.
You tune out half of what its rambling at you. Making back the occasional mhm noise to its bleating. Cutting in when its words lapse into slow blinks cuz you got a game, I think you'd like it. C'monn sugar step out of your comfort zone a little more! You're already doing so well comin here in the first place!
Reach up, touch its face, under its chin slowly back an up to the base of its velvet soft ears. (disgustdisgustdisgust your skin crawls you want to rip your skin off) It looks at you like you're the most holy thing in the world (you want to gouge out its fucking eyes) and you smile. Soft, sweet. (not like you do with him, never like that.)
It follows you. Half leans on you when its steps sway too much and you're both laughing. Teasing all playful that it had a bit too much to drink huh sugargrub? while it grumbles it doesn't understand why you're fine. You just smile again.
Tent you're looking for ain't too far away. But it balks up close. Maybe the number of folks in and around it.
Maybe the smell.
Either way your hand goes to its hip to pat reassuringly. Tellin it all about how you're fiiiine bro, honest. How about weee get set up and you can see it's not so scary? Its hooves shuffle in the dirt but you just shhshush easy it's all good. I've done this like, a hundred times! If I can handle it so can you! Big brave fucker wants to get shown up by lil ol warmblooded me?
Its still nervous despite your goading. Starts following your lead again anyways. Ears flicking back at all the people and the background noise.
You try an drown it out with a steady stream of rambling. Bout how its soo brave and doing so good sweetheart look at you! You're doin amazing darling good job you just gotta trust me, you can trust me yeah? We're friends ain't we? Atta boyy-
It spooks when a sister grabs it by the arm, but it's alright! She doesn't bite, she's just helpin out yeah? Like I said we've done this a hundred times!
You're outta grabbing distance before it can process you've moved. Eyes flickin out to the benches lookin for-
He's got his chin on his paw, tail curling lazy round his ankles, half smiling at you an it takes. All your willpower to keep to your mental script. As is you're half bouncing on your heels, jaw clenched to keep the excited chatter of your fangs under some semblance of control.
Shits gotta be wearing off on the ram, at least enough it finally realizes something ain't entirely right. Still sluggish though. Weakly pulling at restraints made to keep a fuckin violet down like it's gonna do a thing. (still better to be safe than sorry on account of the whole you don't wanna get fuckin mauled cuz shit went sideways thing.)
Judas-? You almost feel bad bout how scared it sounds.
Then you hear him laugh, a sharp bark cutting through the chatter and others laughing already. Joke just for you, just for him.
Tap the side of your neck, drop the false face in a spark of holos' (wasn't yours anymore really, even before the tweaks) an let a sharp grin cut across your real one at the look of dawning realization, sliding quickly into horror. And fear.
It's easy after that. Slip into the role you made like a second skin. Talk about some poor dumbass who shoulda known better and aw don't cry baby, you're the star here! C'mon give everybody a big smile why don't you! Don't go getting shy on us now baby! Just let the words roll outta you without thinkin too hard.
Tell the crowd y'all know how this works! Well some of y'all at least, see a buncha new faces ain't that shit grand.
Tell the crowd means I don't know a lotta y’all though, but I'd hope y'all still know me. (The howling of your name strokes your ego, maybe a lil more than it should. Lesser man could get addicted to it.) Eyyy fuck yeah! Means I don't gotta derail the show to get offended that y'all clearly don't pay enough attention to what's really important-
Tell the crowd to pick a number ‘tween one an ten! C'mon give me a good one! Give- who's stupid ass just said fifteen we sending you back to school motherfucker you can't count-
He makes you wait, cuz he's an asshole. Makes you have to properly work the crowd and oh you're gonna get him for it later. You're gonna-
You're smiling so hard your cheeks hurt when he calls out a six. It's a good number, it's one of your favorites. Sappy fuck.
Still you gotta tsk at him, tease that if you fuck up my hands on this I'm blaming all y'all. (stage whisper, lean your whole ass body all away from his side.) Specially cuz I'm not as in practice as I should be, don't tell the Big Man yeah? But here so I can focus better why don't y'all help me count-
One. The knife hits a leg, sinks through the hock and has it yowlin.
Two. Its frantically wigglin, most of em do. Most of em figure out the left arm strap is looser than should be. Doesn't stop even when it hits the right shoulder.
Three. Right through the palm, thunking solid into wood behind it. Oh that makes you fuckin preen for a solid second. Usually you miss the mark by a little. More than a little. Arms are still close enough to paws fuckin sue you that shits a pain even when they ain't flailing like mad-
Four. Cool metal sinks into its breast. Has it shrieking like its finally sunk in proper; poor thing ain't making it out of here.
Two knives left, your ass still just as showy as with six. Gives you a lil more space to purr though bout how its doin better than most ain't you doll! Yanno usually they end up all cryin for their lusi, or beggin for mercy, to be let go, all that shit. Whiiich don't get me wrong a motherfucker does love to hear but. Gets a lil samey after awhile yanno?
It opens its mouth, you ain't sure if its to snarl or curse your name or beg like all the rest.
Five. Cuts it right off. Sinks into the throat, has it gurgling an wheezing pathetically but you know it ain't gonna die just yet. Still makes the crowd bout lose it.
Six.
Aww that’s a shame it looks like I missed my mark! Howling, chittering laughter as your final blade drives into its stomach. Oh you poor lil thang, that must be hurting real bad huh?
You prowl your way up to it. Ears pinning, tail thrashing well as it can in its own restraints.
You grab the handle. Lean a bit of your weight into it, sink it in that much deeper.
Noise it makes might've been a whimper once upon a time.
Your free hand comes up to cup its cheek. Patting cool, sweat soaked skin. Voice a gentle croon just for it. Hey. Look at me, (you wait til it does, eyes rolling in fear and pain settling somewhere in the vicinity of your face. tears stream down its cheeks.) there we go. You did so good. Ya put on a good show for us darling.
You rip up. Twisting neatly to the side to avoid the worst of it. Dark cerulean blood still spatters your hand, your legs, entrails spilling out all in a rush to be free of the still breathing carcass.
The crowd erupts. You're all smiles, tossing the knife haphazardly back into your ‘dex an ehhh you'll get the others later, and over dramatic bows.
You don't give a rat fuck about what the crowd thinks. You only give a fuck about what he thinks.
You're trying to be chill, and failing, when you slink up to him after. Buzzing underneath your skin as-
Ya did so fucking good baby. Cold hands on your face, gentle shaking as manic barking laughter bubbles right out your chest.
Bachus looks down at you like the most precious thing in the world. Bachus looks down at you like you mean something.
Bachus looks down at you and not for the first time you think you're finally starting to get why all these stupid fuckers follow him blindly.