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Vashti had spent a day laying low after the Leviathan had shredded that mean officer lady’s special police truck, and when she had made her return to the Lucky Strike Casino it had been cleared out. Surprisingly, it wasn’t very difficult to find the Coven again. Once she got a new phone (the previous had been waterlogged), all it took was going online and doing a few searches. They even had their own website. Well, okay, it was more of a subreddit, but it all still seemed very legit to Vashti. She made contact with one of the members on the site, and they set up a little meet and greet on Friday. She assumed it was just a formality. In her mind, she was already in and she just had to make it a few days without causing too much trouble.

The Leviathan had other plans. It had seemed to have grown an obsession around tearing apart large trucks, judging by the number of engine blocks she had seen spiked on a metal rod outside of a stormwater outfall when she had resumed control earlier that morning. On the brightside, she didn’t have to worry about losing control during her meeting with the Coven—and her waterproof phone case had worked! Sorta kinda. It had kept her phone dry. It hadn’t prevented the screen from being cracked. She’d replace it next week. Her allowance had already been wasted on new headphones and fresh duds for today’s meetup. Nothing fancy, she wanted to look nice but seem stuck up. Individually, everything had been under a grand. 

Still, the woman who had spent six hundred (of her Dad’s) dollars on what was pretty much just a black jacket never felt more out of place than she did when she walked inside of that Dairy Queen. It wasn’t one of those places her family ever really went. Vashti figured none of the food here was halal, so she doubted they got many women wearing hijabs in the DQ. Plus, she was the only jerkoff wearing a jacket in the middle of a freaking Florida summer. She spied the table that she was supposed to meet the Coven at but it was empty. It made sense; she was about fifteen minutes early. Vashti ducked into a nearby booth, slipped on some headphones, and kicked her feet up on the bench across from her. Might as well learn about some government cover ups while she waited and watched the table for any arrivals.

Except she felt the workers continue to glance over at her, and the pressure to buy something so that she didn’t draw attention got the better of her. She killed the conspiracy and stepped in line behind a blonde girl. On her turn, Vashti ordered whatever the largest picture was advertising, and with an apprehensive look she took the ice cream war crime that the acned blizzard pusher handed to her. Hesitantly, Vashti grabbed the spoon and shoveled a tiny bite of the pink soft serve into her mouth and...was pleasantly surprised. Dairy Queen was awesome. Another thing to add to the list that her religious upbringing had made her miss out on. She shoved another bite into her mouth, and bristled at the instant brain freeze. Right. Cold wasn’t her friend these days.

She took another bite anyway and suffered the delicious, delicious pain. 

Vashti made her way back to her surveillance booth, but two Covenettes had claimed a spot at the designated table. Actually, at first glance Vashti assumed it was a couple of punks, but then the one in the leather jacket (good she wasn’t the only jerkoff) asked the girl who had been in line with her if she was there for the Coven. 

[color=darkcyan]“I am!”[/color] Vashti surfed over to the table on a wave of excitement and plopped into the chair next to the blonde girl who was a fellow connoisseur of fine frozen foods. She grinned widely at the two. [color=darkcyan]“I’m Vashti. Nice to meet ya!”[/color] she said as she threw out a peace sign. A cloud of concern crossed her face as she noticed the empty spot where a blizzard should be in front of the rough looking girl in a leather jacket. 

[color=darkcyan]“Oh, do you want some ice cream?”[/color] asked Vashti. She was already standing back up from her seat before she stopped halfway and leaned in to whisper behind her hand. [color=darkcyan]“Actually,  you didn't hear it from me, but what Diary Queen doesn't want you to know is that technically it’s not really ice cream."[/color] She snapped upright and flipped her hand to the side as if she was throwing out the previous statement. [color=darkcyan] "Still! It’s pretty good anyway. My treat.”[/color]