*DON'T FUCK WITH A WITCH!

         With her permission, he quickly follows her to the bench – only to have her and her long legs occupy the whole space. Alright, alright, no need to panic. He simply walks to the bench one over, wiping away any kind of dust or fallen leaves on the seat. Out of his school jacket, he pulls a small notepad with an accompanying pen. To keep his thoughts sorted, he used it for groceries and whatever he needed to do outside that day. 

         And he flips to an empty page, looking over at the woman briefly before beginning his rendition of ‘her son’. It takes him a few meticulous minutes to complete the drawing. Once finally satisfied, Kanji nods, holding up the notepad to show the other. 

         “Not really my best work but he’s there alright.” It literally looks like a thirty-minute portrait sketch. “Look familiar at all to you?”

Hmm, truth be told she expected much worse.

Legs finally unfold and she’s ushering herself to a proper upright position if only to steal a glance at his little piece of art. Humming in amusement she’s trotting over to kneel with hands braced to her knees and clearly scrutinizing his work. The well coiffed hair and glasses certainly added to the illusion that this child was her son.

Butt cheeks clench reflexively as if to defend against the accursed words. How dare she! How dare this- this sultry dame threaten him and his hindquarters! It doesn’t matter that his current target is a lady. Sonic never discriminates because everyone is fair game in his eyes. He will make her pay dearly for bullying him and his heinie! That much is guaranteed. 

❝ How do you expect to hit me if you can’t catch me? ❞ He attempts a Four Shadows Burial but forgets he lacks the proper speed to pull off the afterimages. Sonic stops midway and bounds back several paces. Its risky coming within spanking distances of a person whose abilities he knows nothing about.

❝ Dammit. It isn’t smart attacking head on. I’ll have to come at her from the rear. ❞

Oh, the poor boy!

None to turn down a challenge she’s lofting a brow at him ( or rather, his antsy little display ) and affords a laugh before anything else. Amidst his would be speed ridden attempts to outsmart her she’s jutting out the marvelous length of a single leg, heel digging into the dirt just as he attempts to come at her from the rear.

          ★ –;; Oh wow, he really has been out-played, hasn’t he? The tables turned, flipped back on him entirely. He feels about as bashful as he looks, the tips of his ears darkening further as he laughs the stuttered feeling out of his chest. It’s odd, he thinks– despite his age he’s always been told that he’s acted like a kid, but this is the first time in a long time he feels as though he’s been put in his place like one.

He takes the proffered sweet, albeit a bit sheepishly, with a slight dip of his head in acknowledgement.

“Thanks but, uh–” he laughs,

“ –I don’t know how great of a job I’d do with an audience? I guess. Well– you saw how successful I was earlier, anyhow.”

Simply adorable.

At the very least he tried. Charming enough to earn her quips in turn and enough attention to have her almost forgetting her bags. She’s booping him on the nose with a sweet of her own before tucking it away betwixt her lips only to bump a hip against his playfully.

“It’s good isn’t it? I come here every now and then because it’s quiet, and the drinks aren’t bad” He comments idly after he hears her hum to her drink, it’s not easy to find a perfect hangout spot for people like them, and yet here they are. The island sure is full of surprises, and thankfully for Snake, this time more pleasant than not.

She describes him and Snake feigns an offended noise, “I wouldn’t call me broody, grumpy I think is more like it” all lighthearted, they used to be close back in stranger places and the agent would be lying if he said he wasn’t glad to see a familiar face “Then again, it did lead you to me, didn’t it? I’ll have to check who’s out giving info to just anyone, you know how business is, can’t have someone out being all loose lipped.”

“Quite. I’ve had my handful of jovial fellows since arriving but I’m not shy to admit you are one of my favorite.”

A smirk over the glistening rim of her glass, elbows maintaining her balance against the edge of the bar counter as legs partially cross. The ambience is rather fitting for those who took the more jazzy and lingering cigarette smoke filled route indeed. More homey than anywhere else. Why, it almost reminds her to Rodin’s little bar gig. Now if only that chap could make his way up here then perhaps the island would find more entertaining means.

          ★ –;; Vash laughs, even if it’s a bit sheepishly, even if there’s a bit of red at the tips of his ears. It feels as though he hasn’t worn this persona in years, hasn’t slid into the ill-fated, over dramatic smooth-talker role, and its suit is ill-fitted; as if it’s an old favourite that he’s outgrown but it’s still too fun to completely rid himself of.

That, and it’s always been a bit of a different ball game when women actually decide to fire back at him, instead of making it a game. It’s fun, but it’s always been difficult to get his footing back when his antics aren’t immediately shot down.

“There’s a bit less bravado to me here, I guess.”

“I suppose I’m more used to country girls.”

She hums thoughtfully at best and thumbs a sweet treat loose from within the smooth confines of her dress in offering. A rose for his rose despite seeming nothing more than an innocent confectionery it was of course imbued with her own magical properties and would protect him in a time of need should any island antics surely call for it.

Although with what curious little wonders she’s already stumbled about during the naughty after hours she wouldn’t be a dash surprised at all. He’s a rather pure heart from what she can gauge and it’s well more than enough to earn a witch’s time of day if anything. Besides, the natural flow of time stopped for her centuries ago.

John could only chortle at her response, having to walk a pacer faster than her longer stride– two steps for her one. Maybe being a little tall would have gained some advantage to keeping up with just about anyone, only a few people were as tall or a little shorter than him. Ah, the curse of short legs.

“I only recently found out about shoes with wheels on ‘em. Sounded like complete torture devices to me. Is it absolute skill bein’ able to walk on heels that high while havin’ amazin’ long legs and not fall or simply luck? I’m watchin’ here, doll. I’m impressed!”

It’s a touch amusing watching him at least attempt to match her stride. Most men haven’t got the gut but perhaps it was her turn to be impressed! She slows her stride just enough to maintain even movement much like a butterfly at his side all while avoiding the busy locals of course.