[Another part of the city opening up, another chance at exploration. That is Henry’s logic, the same kind that’s driven him for a few months now, and the only real reason why he would find himself amid the bright, retro-esque colors of the ice cream parlor that reminds him a bit too keenly of his own childhood era.
Well, it isn’t the only reason. There’s a woman who had practically flung the parlor door open and began acting in what he could only call the most patronizing bout of hysterics — clearly frustrated with her new(? he suspects she’s new) circumstances and the lack of answers this barren city is eager to provide anyone. He hears exclamations of gorging oneself on ice cream until she dies, followed by the apparent consequences: a terrible brain freeze.
He’s made his way to the entrance, half-poking his head into the doorway when he hears the scoop clatter to the ground and spies a woman hunched over, clutching her head. He shouldn’t find it terribly funny… But he does. The wretched difficulties of others have always appealed to his misanthropic heart.]
You’re only punishing yourself, you know.
[Henry says, finally stepping in. He clasps his hands behind his back and speaks softly, politely-]
And you’re dirtying the ice cream scooper for anyone who could be interested in trying a flavor.
[He gestures with a hand and, with the power of his telekinesis, said ice cream scooper floats up and trails its way towards the nearest sink to rest inside of it, clattering slightly.]
b
Well, it isn’t the only reason. There’s a woman who had practically flung the parlor door open and began acting in what he could only call the most patronizing bout of hysterics — clearly frustrated with her new(? he suspects she’s new) circumstances and the lack of answers this barren city is eager to provide anyone. He hears exclamations of gorging oneself on ice cream until she dies, followed by the apparent consequences: a terrible brain freeze.
He’s made his way to the entrance, half-poking his head into the doorway when he hears the scoop clatter to the ground and spies a woman hunched over, clutching her head. He shouldn’t find it terribly funny… But he does. The wretched difficulties of others have always appealed to his misanthropic heart.]
You’re only punishing yourself, you know.
[Henry says, finally stepping in. He clasps his hands behind his back and speaks softly, politely-]
And you’re dirtying the ice cream scooper for anyone who could be interested in trying a flavor.
[He gestures with a hand and, with the power of his telekinesis, said ice cream scooper floats up and trails its way towards the nearest sink to rest inside of it, clattering slightly.]