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With a raise of his brow, a soft, barely audible sigh managed to escape its way through Neoh's small, pale lips. This was likely the least entertaining, and most certainly the least interesting development which could have transpired. A pair of large, black eyes maintained a locked state of focus on Rick as the hero left, a less than amused expression making itself known upon the young, theatrical boy's features. "Well..," Neoh began, reaching for another brownie. They were quite heavenly, something most would be prepared to agree with. "Maintaining how this scene has been utterly misinterpreted in lieu of simply offering you the prize you sought," the young hero spoke, biting into his second brownie. "Do enjoy your stay, arm yourself against disappointment, but alas..," another sigh managed its way past a pair of slender lips, this time far more audible, "our exchange has been thwarted by an expertly placed strike, hemorrhaging the act of mystery."
Neoh allowed the blade beneath him to vanish, as a pair of small, bare feet met the metallic foundation below. He was, indeed, disappointed, for there was an aim towards joyful mischief, with this newcomer. Alas, it would forever surpass the theatrical teenager how his behavior, and how their exchange, had in any way warranted worry from Rick, but Neoh could not read the lines of another actor. No, he had no written the script, and neither had another. Life, one could say, had a pen of its own, and scribbled across parchment with furious intent. As for Neoh, however, his interest in participating with this development grew thin.
As if the Chessire Cat conversing with Alice, only to have a third party putting a wrench in between their dramatical approach was, as one might have possibly been able to imagine, a frustrating outcome. "Help yourself to some brownies, if a desire to wash away disappointment suits your fancy," Neoh extended his hand, dainty fingers wrapping their way around a cold, silver handle before pulling open the fridge from whence he produced a bright, pink drink with a large 'M' printed upon the aluminum surface. Monster Energy, which he had grown adequately addicted to. A cold, icy foundation caressed the boy's hand as he proceeded to close the door and started towards the kitchen's exit. "Refrain from shooting Arrowcaster, and all that," Neoh commented, in passing, as he was padding away. "But if you do, for the love of God..," the boy stopped, turning his obsidian gaze towards their new guest, "make it entertaining." It would proceed to be his final words, before Neoh made himself scarce, leaving the kitchen, and his groupmates behind. He had errands to attend, and however the scenario now left behind developed, it was a story for another time, a story he could read later, and certainly, something which would require some heaving editing, for future reference.
