they call it a donit 'cause don't it look good
Bart's cousin Zeke lacks most of the charm Billy found tolerable enough to help him surmount the challenge of befriending someone so ineffably outgoing, so irrepressibly incorrigible. And Billy is no stranger to being long-suffering.
In other words, he's - Zeke's - too much, and way too much of it. The fact that his "straight-woman" partner matches all his poses beat for beat and sports lightbulbs on her shoulders and in her hair is yet another sign of danger. Of course, Billy, the blunt and the orphan-defending, is no stranger to signs of danger.
And then there's Ashera, who won't explain how or why she knows the Genbus and doesn't even seem to care, for her own sake or for anyone else's. To speak of incorrigible...
Ashera carries a twinsaber, and Zeke a colossal electrified greatsword with a blade wide enough with which to play pickleball. They surely don't need these things on them at all times; even Billy has gotten generally socialized enough to leave his guns at home, most of the time.
But no, one surely does not have a present or absent need for weaponry on a trip to a local ice cream parlor that doesn't even take credit payments. If not for the freezers, the place might be entirely analog. Rather, unelectrified - which is not (no longer) an option, with Pandoria and Zeke here.
It's a mystery to Billy why Bart even thinks his cousin plus partner of unidentified nature need a guide around Aquans Park. For one, it's a laughably small town, most of a state-route road and a handful of apartment complexes. For two, they already have Ashera. But then, it's always possible that they could lose Ashera anywhere, at any time, for any reason.
Billy figures a safe, uncontroversial pastime is going out for ice cream - no caffeine, not much money and not much time, you get to learn others' preferences or even guess at them if you're feeling spunky... It's methodical, but that doesn't cancel out its effectiveness.
Pandoria has industriously assigned herself to counting the Gears that fly along the street, many sportier and in fine repair on such an odd Sunday afternoon. Billy can see her whispering to Zeke something about poniopower, throughput, and the size of a cannon each might be packing. Maybe they really are hoplophiles?
Ashera, meanwhile, has found the nearest umbrellaed thermoplastic picnic table in the lot outside the eatery and gotten herself seated atop, breezily ignoring the family of four exiting the order counter with some assortment of burgers and dogs to hand.
Which is fine. Billy has learned to accept that which he cannot control, and he neither can nor has any interest in being able to control Ashera. And look, there's a couple getting up to leave just now. It's fine. It's all fine.
"So you're Bart's friend."
Maybe it's not all fine.
"I know him, yes," Billy nods. Ashera's red eyes are piercing, now that she's deigned to look at him. "We met while volunteering."
Ashera cackles, and Billy tries not to blink (that is, he succeeds, but she is trying him). "Oh, that's so vague! Were you giving blood? I've met a lot of rare ones that way."
Ah. "No, Bart was a summer camp counselor at the orphanage my family runs, some years ago. He never returned to work another summer, even though the children loved him, but he insisted that we stay in touch."
"And you're susceptible," Ashera concludes, grinning down her nose with just the tips of her teeth showing. "I think I like you, Billy."
"That's reassuring," deadpans Billy. "Zeke, Pandoria, will you come off the curb now?"
"Chum's got an awfully broad definition of curb, Pandy," Zeke says, out of the corner of his mouth toward an emphatic responding nod, but the two appear from the sidewalk as summoned, and Billy trudges them up the steps of the shop into the lack of air conditioning - since they're letting the freezers take care of that, ostensibly.
The waitstaff (cashiers? scoopstaff?) at Spinkles are a reticent bunch, it seems, content to wait behind two six-by-two rows of three-gallon tubs for the customers to make their selections. Billy can't say he's thrilled about this development, but maybe his compatriots will be quiet choosers anyway.
Not. Ashera launches into a succession of "hmms" and "ahhs" and mutters about some little bird Billy certainly hopes she's not planning to string up, later. One decisive finger remains tapped on the glass (there's signage attached instructing young patrons not to do any such thing, or get breathy, but Billy supposes this could reasonably be assumed to be below Ashera's line of sight) above Death by Chocolate, and the other hovers between black raspberry, pistachio, and mint chocolate chip.
It's Pandoria and Zeke that are the real threat - Billy himself will make a modest selection of Graham Slam, one scoop only, thank you. Zeke is contemplating the minutiae differences between Moose Tracks, Rocky Road, and Cow Chow, while Pandoria rattles off the recipes and opines for an octopus flavor. It's now that Billy begins to suspect Tantaly to be a much remoter location in the north of New Markazi, where ice cream is simply not necessary.
That doesn't explain the outfits, though. It definitely does not explain the shirtless Zeke and the miniskirted Pandoria.
"Do you like nuts?" Billy asks, gently, intent on helping them decide what they really would like to have. This stratagem backfires, however, when Pandoria peers up at him and points a querulous (gloved) finger past his shoulder at Ashera, who's smiling at something only she knows.
"No, nuts the fruit." To stop any further consternation pursuant to that statement, Billy amends, "You know, walnuts, almonds? Are either of you allergic to peanuts?"
"No, but I bet you are," Ashera laughs.
Billy stiffens. He almost retorts, "Actually, I'm lactose intolerant," but stops himself. Clearly Ashera doesn't need any more ammunition than that which she can freely scrounge - and she is a scrounger.
"I'll have Cotton Candy," Pandoria announces, hands on hips. "How 'bout you, my prince?"
Well, it figures Bart would be so ancestrally rich as to be related to royalty. Zeke tosses his cape and replies, "I'll have Peanut Butter Weave."
This time, Billy can't stop himself. "That's it?!"
Three heads swivel owlishly to observe him. Ashera's thumb is still on the safety glass.
"Seeing as you're all so...adventurous."
Ashera nods knowingly. "He thinks we're crazy."
"...aren't you?"
"Maybe a little odd," says Zeke, coming forward to clap Billy on the back and guide him up to the register where the cashier waits, impossibly disinterested if not merely bored, "but never unchivalrous! Our chum Billy here has brought us out for an ice cream treat, so we've got to be well-behaved, haven't we?"
Billy finds it to be in his best future interest not to offer comment, lest he begin some sort of trend in Fatima-Genbu branch behavior where the in-joke is him, Young Master Black, personally.
Further enthusiastic debate ensues over choice of toppings (pineapple and cotton candy? sprinkles or jimmies? why do on earth they call them wet walnuts?), and Ashera stands to the side itching her neck when the metal scoop hits paper-coated pan on the Death by Chocolate.
There's nearly a scuffle about payment, with Pandoria and Ashera discussing some seemingly long-forgotten debt owed in one direction or the other, or both, while Zeke surreptiously bats Billy's hand away and folds over a few too many bills, dumping the gil in the tip jar as his wallet disappears back into some invisible deep-buried pocket.
If, after all, this time-wasting throughout what one had thought to be a relatively time-efficient activity has them basically fully occupied for the afternoon, Billy isn't sure he won't miss the odd company that the four of them make.
Yes, he's stiff, he knows that, and he doesn't intend on changing. He's a self-made man, to be sure. Bart, just the slightest touch more neurotic than Zeke, can be easier to handle, but maybe challenges are welcome, sometimes. Just because orphans are moody doesn't mean that moody people are the only people Billy can ever tolerate, or even like spending time with.
Just because Ashera seems about to step into traffic at any given moment, with Zeke and Pandoria both oblivious, doesn't mean anything at all.
Most of all, the Graham Slam is absolutely delicious, and Billy knows he'd brave it even if he were lactose intolerant. That's his share of chaos sorted, then?