Her skin went taut, her teeth grinding with every single movement and stream of drool that passed through her once luscious mane of hair. She continued along, spiting their antics in a a resilient effort to wrangle her slowly throbbing headache down enough to focus.
âIf you were going to act like this, I could just be cruel and make you walk to where weâre goin all by yourselves. Plus make sure you get the least amount of ice cream. You wouldnât like that, would you Rogue?â
Her stern words matched her fiercely narrowed eyes, ill suited next to her threatening smirk, half a jest, half truth.
They continued forward, ever forward in a seemingly endless, maze like march past rundown apartments, plain streets marked here and there by billowing trash that circled in its own small whirlwind on occasion. Intersections came and went, what handfuls of people huddled into their cliques that there were, quickly disappeared often as fast as they passed by. Only a select few date utter quiet whispers in the presence of an infamous, veneered member of what had once been Enâs syndicate empire, especially knowing well the business she dealt with her own hands. Gradually the apartments seemed to clean themselves, the whiling rumble of Brooms flying overhead carrying their passengers who paid at the highest bid, paving the path for the place they had sought.
âThere it is, Ice Cream Omen! Order whatever the hell ya want and Iâll cover the bill!â She cheered, setting them down at last before the illuminated glass displays that hummed under Smoke powered coolers, containing colorful assortments as far as the eye could see.
Running a hand through her hair, she grasped at the formulated braids, her gloved fingers dampening upon finding the spots of spittle, her face souring as she gently sighed. Itâd be one hell of a mess to clean in the shower.
Meek, it was clear that the girl probably prioritized the ice cream over any real sense of dignity what would you do for a Klondike bar, but it couldnât be helped. These kids had been through a lot, and their loyalties would ultimately have to lie wherever the food did, at least it would if they were going to survive into adulthood. Rogue could be felt slinking back on Noi, as if perhaps embarrassed, or even a little frustrated to be called out in such a way, but her low spirits thankfully did not last.
As for poor Raptor, exhaustion had finally caught up with him, and his head leaned into the womanâs shoulder, held up by his sisterâs understanding palm as he rested. Sleep was especially difficult for him, for while his sisterâs fevered nightmares and bouts of rage threatened the lives of others, it was his task to sing, or play music to the best of his ability to quell her never ending thirst. Thankfully, he came to just fine as soon as the word âice creamâ was mentioned again, his legs wiggling on their own due to excitement.
That childish wonder spilled out of the brotherâs voice when his feet touched the pavement, and his sisterâs face was already pressed firmly into the glass, ignorant to the blood stains that had remained despite her brotherâs attempt to clean. Why, they just about looked like they were about to lose their minds, to never be recovered again, but they managed to at least contain an uproar of joy.
With how the brother suddenly stepped behind his sister, taking hold of her hands in each of his own, the powerful nature of their bond emphasized itself before Noi. Pointing gently with his sisterâs hands, he began to whisper into her ear the different flavors available, while she made various squeaks and purrs of delight. Finally, she whispered into his ear, and after a nod, their order was finalized.
âSister would like mint, and I would like vanilla. Or - um, do they have anything with cinnamon in it, maybe?â
âBrother, my face is cold.â
âThen stop pressing your face to the glass, sister.â
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