(no subject)

[xihe]

 

PHERES DYSSEU | EIGHT SWEEPS | 18 YEARS OLD

 

 

RS: | So |
RS: | I Was Thinking | Since I’m Here |
RS: | Would You Like to Go Shopping | ? |

You have never met a child as excitable as Hinnom.

To be fair, you go out of your way to avoid wrigglers, given they don’t have much money and they’re not very interesting. But still, you’re fairly certain you weren’t this energetic at his age.

Nor this physical.

“Hold still!” you demand, laughing as Hinnom pivots around you. It’d been a lark to shoot them a message when you stopped in Temasek: you hadn’t really expected them to reply! You certainly hadn’t expected them to be so enthusiastic that they agreed - insisted, really! - on coming up immediately.

But here they are, spinning around you like a top and dragging you along for the ride. They’ve got a tight grip on your hand, pupa nails digging sharp into the fat of your palm, and they’re stronger than their size would have you assume. You don’t mind, even though they’re hauling you through the market place like a bag of produce.

Even though everyone’s staring.

Well. Let them! It’s Temasek, and you’re in the lowblood quarter. Not the sort of place you like to go usually, but it’s the only place you felt safe bringing your little feral friend – and to be honest, it’s probably the safest part of the city. No one here is going to try to hassle two maroons, not when there’s plenty of easier, richer targets all around.

“No!” Hinnom’s laughing too, nasal and obnoxious and thoroughly infectious. “C'mon, c'mon, I wanna show you some really ghoul shit –”

“I thought we were going shopping, Hinnom!”

“Shopping’s boring as fuck,” they yowl, letting go of your hand so that they can bound forward. One step, two, each impossibly long even for those gangly legs - and when they pivot back to face you, sure enough, there’s maroon crackling on their horns. What a little cheater. “Hey, hey, hey! BOO!” They’re bouncing in place from one foot to another, their raggedy poncho catching the air around them: “I’ll race you to the fountain!”

“It’s not - I’m not -” They make a face at you, wrinkling their nose hard enough that the paint scattered on it cracks. “Unless you’re sca~ared,” they jeer. “Huh? I bet you are! I bet you’re super scared of losing, like, you’re super crypt out by losing, like –”

The fountain isn’t that far, and it’s not cheating to use your psionics, not when they started it. And the way Hinnom cackles with delight when they spin around and see you already sprinting towards it is well worth the bloody snout.