Nancy was a simple gal - she usually just had chocolate ice cream, maybe with some butterscotch syrup on top. Today she was feeling like she was in a silly goofy mood, though, so she found herself at the toppings bar. Hmmm, maybe she'd get some chocolate chips on her ice cream today? Add a bit of texture? Or perhaps really get crazy and get something like gummy bears or jelly slugs. Did either of those pair well with chocolate? Probably not. Sure didn't sound like it would...

Frozen and attempting to figure out which one was the best course of action, she paused and stared at the toppings. Hmmm. What to DO, what to do...

Technically, yes, Charlie's dad had said a very clear 'no' to a group or solo trip to Fortescue's, but he said a lot of things. Also, technically, the real refusal was about going to get ice cream when they had plenty at home that was already paid for. So, if Charlie wasn't here for ice cream, and he didn't pay any money, he had a very good defence.

This whole trip, he'd had a parent clutching his hand, partly because of his tendency to go off on his own as soon as no one was looking and partly because of that business in the mirror shop last time and partly because they thought he was a fragile baby, probably, even though he was only a day younger than the others and almost eleven too. Charlie hadn't complained all that much, because actually he didn't really mind being the precious youngest most of the time, and also because, eventually, his dad let his guard down and his hand relaxed juuust enough and Charlie was able to disappear in an instant.

And now here he was, not buying ice cream. As soon as he reached the parlour, Charlie Upstead slipped through the customers towards the toppings bar, using his small stature to his advantage, and stepped right in front of the girl who was just stood there doing nothing. He picked up the nearby scooper, and boldly shovelled out a handful of the reject mixture from the tray, apparently unconcerned by what some might consider a bizarre or even unpleasant combination of toppings.

Using the scooper as a makeshift bowl, he turned to the girl he'd usurped in the non-existent queue. "All yours." The machine, that is. The scoop was his; Charlie picked a banana chip smeared with nacho cheese out of it and threw it into his mouth to make that clear.

Another summer another return to the UK after summer semester at Himitsumahou. She had another performance calligraphy title to her repertoire and now faced the inevitable return to Hogwarts shopping that also accompanied summer. This summer, as her parents and grandfather continued to stress, was a pivotal one in that it was the first steps in preparing for OWLs. She supposed she ought to feel more discomfort and stress than she was presently, but Mitsuki remained a pleasant neutral towards these supposed life altering examinations.

Seemed like a social construct if she ever heard one. Very curious indeed.

Under the assumption that Mercer wanted to begin their back to school shopping at Florean's, surely he had selected the location to fuel up since he required much sustenance for his growing form, she lightly paced in front of the display with her hands clasped behind her back as she waited for Mercer to meet her here with their order.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Felixir

Technically, yes, Charlie's dad had said a very clear 'no' to a group or solo trip to Fortescue's, but he said a lot of things. Also, technically, the real refusal was about going to get ice cream when they had plenty at home that was already paid for. So, if Charlie wasn't here for ice cream, and he didn't pay any money, he had a very good defence.

This whole trip, he'd had a parent clutching his hand, partly because of his tendency to go off on his own as soon as no one was looking and partly because of that business in the mirror shop last time and partly because they thought he was a fragile baby, probably, even though he was only a day younger than the others and almost eleven too. Charlie hadn't complained all that much, because actually he didn't really mind being the precious youngest most of the time, and also because, eventually, his dad let his guard down and his hand relaxed juuust enough and Charlie was able to disappear in an instant.

And now here he was, not buying ice cream. As soon as he reached the parlour, Charlie Upstead slipped through the customers towards the toppings bar, using his small stature to his advantage, and stepped right in front of the girl who was just stood there doing nothing. He picked up the nearby scooper, and boldly shovelled out a handful of the reject mixture from the tray, apparently unconcerned by what some might consider a bizarre or even unpleasant combination of toppings.

Using the scooper as a makeshift bowl, he turned to the girl he'd usurped in the non-existent queue. "All yours." The machine, that is. The scoop was his; Charlie picked a banana chip smeared with nacho cheese out of it and threw it into his mouth to make that clear.

Nancy blinked as someone pushed past her to the bar - oops. She hadn't realized she was taking up space. "Oh, sorry," she mumbled as the kid just went abut his business...and then she noticed the strange combination of toppings he was shoveling onto his ice cream.

"Does that actually taste GOOD?" she asked, eyes widening. She couldn't help herself, she had to ask.

"Okaaaaay," Mercer shoved ice cream under Mitsuki's nose while trying to keep the dribbles from his overloaded cone from making it past his fingers. He already had ice cream on his own nose and a bit in his overlong hair that desperately needed a trim (fact: his mother had already chased him with scissors twice this summer).

"So this is fun, right? We're having fun?" Not that he should be asking her, since fun-having ought to be one of those things that was just obvious, but since this was their first proper date and all... (fact 2: he wasn't sure if he'd mentioned to Mitsuki this was a date?). So the proper boyfriendy thing to do was check in on whether they were having fun.

HE was having loads of fun (fact 3: his stomach hurt).

Quote:

Originally Posted by Cassirin

"Okaaaaay," Mercer shoved ice cream under Mitsuki's nose while trying to keep the dribbles from his overloaded cone from making it past his fingers. He already had ice cream on his own nose and a bit in his overlong hair that desperately needed a trim (fact: his mother had already chased him with scissors twice this summer).

"So this is fun, right? We're having fun?" Not that he should be asking her, since fun-having ought to be one of those things that was just obvious, but since this was their first proper date and all... (fact 2: he wasn't sure if he'd mentioned to Mitsuki this was a date?). So the proper boyfriendy thing to do was check in on whether they were having fun.

HE was having loads of fun (fact 3: his stomach hurt).

Because she had been expecting him, the sudden appearance of ice cream directly under her nose and the instantaneous stench of sweet did not entirely startle her. Sweet did remind her of home, mum's baking in particular, but it was not one of her comforting smells per say. None of that matter, however, as the the individual delivering the ice cream was.

"Spending time with you is always enjoyable," she confirmed with subtle nod as she reached for some napkins to clean off his nose with a couple of gentle dabs and retrieved one more fresh napkin to wipe across his hair that had taken a brief soak in the topmost scoop of ice cream. "Perhaps toppings in an adjacent cup would be the most efficient." Considering the volume of ice cream on the cone in his hand. "I had just been considering the salted pretzels."

Also her choice of toping for hot chocolate.

"Yeah, spending time with me is enjoyable." Mercer's eyes crossed as he tried to see what she was wiping from his face. What if it was his whole nose, or something? Cooper used to steal his nose all the time. "That's why I'm your boyfriend. You wouldn't boyfriend someone boring."

Had she boyfriended him? Or had he girlfriended her? Wasn't it just a mutually agreed upon thing? Did it matter? "I think maybe efficiency isn't the main theme when it comes to desserts. It's more about deliciousness, and I think that a little melting and mixing goes a long way." But he retrieved a cup for them to put toppings into.

If he'd heard the apology, Charlie gave little indication. Perhaps he hadn't. Perhaps he just didn't care all that much. But he did break into a grin, at the look on the girl's face.

"Well, yeah," he said. "They all taste good apart, so." The general idea being 'why not when they're together too'. That, and, rationalising aside, he was already eating it and knew it tasted fine. Actually, if he'd had a chance to actually choose an ice cream, he might have cultivated the toppings with that in mind, but this approach was fine too. He picked a jelly slug - also covered with cheese, and maybe a bit of marshmallow sauce - from the scoop-bowl. "Aintcha gonna choose something?"

Quote:

Originally Posted by Cassirin

"Yeah, spending time with me is enjoyable." Mercer's eyes crossed as he tried to see what she was wiping from his face. What if it was his whole nose, or something? Cooper used to steal his nose all the time. "That's why I'm your boyfriend. You wouldn't boyfriend someone boring."

Had she boyfriended him? Or had he girlfriended her? Wasn't it just a mutually agreed upon thing? Did it matter? "I think maybe efficiency isn't the main theme when it comes to desserts. It's more about deliciousness, and I think that a little melting and mixing goes a long way." But he retrieved a cup for them to put toppings into.

Well, this was a modestly surprising development but one that pleased Mitsuki. For essentially as long as she had known the Branxtons, Mercer had been a bit self deprecating and more or less allowed Marina to dictate the trajectory of things and even steal his food. So it was quite pleasant to hear him speak about himself with such assertion. At last, was he seeing the qualities that herself and Milo had always embraced and nurtured in their own ways?

The sudden crossing of the eyes did, in fact, elicit the tiniest of laughs (one could argue that it was more a breathed out amused sigh than a laugh) before she took the napkin stained with a bit of melted ice cream and began to fold it against the toppings table into a crane. The additional layers to paper napkins could prove tricky at times, but her fingers were well equipped to handle the thickness. "You are for far more reasons than that," she replied easily. Mercer, for some time now, had continued to remind her that he was her boy friend and while it perplexed her as to why he may possibly be seeking validation...she had no qualms with giving it to him.

Yes, this was still a thing.

"A cup is also less messy," she added. Such a thought felt particularly pertinent since they would be doing their OWL level book shopping today. Since he had retrieved the cup, and she had completed her paper napkin crane, Mitsuki softly guided his hand beneath the pretzel dispenser and pushed the button which immediately filled the cup to the brim. "...perhaps multiple cups."

"Have you considered that mess is the point?" Mercer tried to give Mitsuki a severe look, although his severe face was mostly just a lot of wiggly eyebrow action. She was overthinking dessert, and that was a serious offense against the gods of sugar everywhere. To prove his point, Mercer released sprinkles onto his cone. And peanuts. And globs of candied fruit. Delicious mess.

"We'll wash up after, and you'll hold my hand even if it's sticky." Probably not good to tell her what she MUST do, was it? "If you want. But you will."

Mess is the point?

Hmmm.

"No," she answered, though she was now mulling the thought over now with a lingering roasted almond sensation tickling the roof of her mouth. Her cool hazel green eyes followed his dancing brows for a bit, still very much considering things as he had suggested and then shifted her attention to her cup of pretzels while he busied himself with his mountain of toppings.

"Mess is the point," she repeated. Mitsuki then plucked a pretzel from her cup and slid over closer to him and his adorned ice cream cone. Leaning forward, she dipped the pretzel into the topmost sector of the ice cream to scoop up a bit of it on the pretzel and then studied Mercer's face while he talked about holding hands (something that likewise would be messy) and proceeded to use said pretzel as a paintbrush to swipe across his cheek. "Okay," she simpered.

A mess.