…Was this supposed to be a poetry slam now? Why the hell was Chikage reciting a bad haiku? What was the point of all of this? Rui-Ling mowed through more of his desserts, washing irritation with sweetness, until the ancient loli decided to direct a mortal blow towards him. Flushing angrily at her words, Rui-Ling replied, swallowing a painfully large scoop of ice cream, “Can it, you washboard hag. If you weren’t so intent on attracting pedophiles with your faux-elegance, maybe I’d actually take your romantic advice seriously.”
With that harrumph, he went back to eating. At least the elderly jailbait was getting to the meat of the issue now…which was also pointlessly and painfully enigmatic. Something bad is going to happen in the near future? For humans, isn’t that normal? And an ancient evil? What’s that supposed to be, her period? And of course that’d take the form of a bunch of missions that any wet-behind-the-ears Chaser could take. Why not just form an elite group of Youkai and Chasers, instead of giving it out to the general public? He wasn't really sure what Chikage was even thinking...but then again, that troll was probably thinking of nothing.
While recovering from his bout of brain-freeze, a new arrival came in, some youkai fan of Shiina’s that immediately hugged the vampire maid…before her guard dog rushed over, punched down the poor butterfly-moth-whatever-thing, and then Sheridan pointed one of her guns at it, clearly intent on blowing it into pieces.
Wow. All these overreactions these days. Shiina wouldn't die even if it was a suicide bomber moth, so what was there to be worried about?
Hell, what if it was Shiina’s vampire-moth cousin or something? Kids these days, using violence to solve everything. Between Shiina’s knife-toss threats and Eiko’s vicious takedowns, the young immortal was really questioning the rules this café had in regards to treating customers. He placed his silver hand over the muzzle of Sheridan’s assault rifle, just in case the Spice Reaper was feeling trigger happy that day, before saying to her, “A little hasty, isn’t it? Though I suppose rocket punching that poor thing was already too much in and of itself.”
“And Chikage, don’t suppose you know this moth at all?”
