Crash! Hundred Ice Cream Dash!

[mithrarin]

Who: Dust and OPEN
When: Early September
Where: The Near Shore
What: Dust has some downtime, and spends it wisely(????).



A.

[Down the road sprints Dust, his cloak and tail trailing behind him and purpose written in the set of his jaw. The sidewalk isn't empty, but he dodges past the people walking on it as if he isn't there -- which, being of the Far Shore, he might as well not be. No eyebrows raise in his wake, no one stumbles back in shock. He's just a passing breeze, one they find pleasant.]

[The light is against him as he reaches a side street -- no matter. He vaults over the two lanes of traffic as if it's nothing, landing lightly on the other side to resume his run. A truck juts out across the sidewalk, poorly parked in a driveway -- he barely breaks stride as he kicks one foot forward, dropping his body so his momentum slides him clean under it. And again, on the other side, he springs back to his feet and resumes his charge.]

[At the end of the block, Dust comes to a sudden halt right at the corner -- just in time for an ice cream truck to slow to a stop right in front of him, so that he has to lean all of an inch to the side to place his order.] A dipped cone, please.

[As the ice cream man turns to the soft serve machine, Dust scoops his phone out of his pocket to tag his thumb against it, his smile a little smug.] And that's number 57. 43 to go.

B.

[When he isn't chasing ice cream trucks around -- or intercepting them -- or, well, don't ask about that one truck with a slightly dented roof -- Dust spends his time on the roof of a neighborhood school, sitting on the edge of the roof with his arms folded on his legs. Something in the air makes him uneasy, in a way he associates with danger and trouble, but he hasn't seen anything yet.]

[Still, his senses are on overdrive trying to pick up any hint of an ayakashi.]

Wildcard.

[Hit me up.]

Comments

[sweetdeath]

... Fifty-seven what?

[Don't mind Tsuzuki, standing a couple feet back from the ice-cream truck and working his way through a caramel apple flavored soft-serve cone (since when does soft serve come in caramel apple? It's delicious! They should've come up with that forever ago!)

He's pretty sure he saw Dust jump over traffic, though, so whatever the fifty-seven is, it's got to be important, right?]

B

[kokuyoyo]

[....Ah. It's this guy.]

[Chikusa is still only vaguely familiar with the furry stranger that had been roped into his and Ken's ablutions. To say that he owes him feels a little too heavy for the teen... But he does feel as if he should at least pay him mind, now.]

[So when he sees the rather unmistakable shape at the roof of the school, Chikusa pauses and glances around, trying to see what has gotten the other shinki's attention so much.]

A

[nopixiedust]

So does that mean you've eaten 57 of those?

[Wendy's familiar voice sounds off a little from behind Dust, even as she tries to speed up her steps enough so that she can hopefully hop up onto his back to peer over his shoulder. She doesn't need to, but she wants to anyway.]