Bright Bulging Bold Breathtaking Boo-boos

She bristled erectly, part serpent, intermingling shades of kitten. “Well,” she responded slowly. “Lucky for you, Mo-Fo, I respect a bold answer.” Then promptly rose with a snigger, and retracted Overbearing steel to the Pack-hatch where it belonged.

She took a low timbre and jeered, “Nothing really creeps MEE out.” Then patted my arm as if that was going to reconcile the whole stunt - “But you forgot I was trying, dinch’ya?”

I sat up some more, and rubbed at spots where the knicks and lumps were swelling. “Momentarily,” I ceded. “I was contemplating about slapping the smirks off your face.”

She started to lift a reprimanding gaze, but dropped it, gathering how disgruntled my throat just broiled. “Come onnn, playing a point, dude. You need a kiss for your boo-boos too?”

“No, you sweat-Monger; I need like some cream for that,” I elaborated, trying to enhance any twinges of guilt.

She advanced rapidly & pecked her lips against my forehead. I didn’t see it coming, but I didn’t lean away from the spongy tap either. “Sorry, no challenge escapes me,” she withdrew in a lively half-apology (and what I hoped was guilty glee).

In return, I beamed whole-heartedly as I savored the breath-pool of our vicinity. “Can I challenge you next, to a massage session?”

“Now now,” she angled back some, unflattered. “If I give you an inch, you’ll get to asking miles won’tchu?”

I tilted my lips, fondly. “Ah well it was worth a shot; when in BathRome...”

There was a thump, and the door opened to a pair of long feet. The shadow of Rovone’s thick form fell upon us. He blinked. “What the hell is this?”

Only one eye peeked out in surprise to regard us. The other was buried under chocolate bangs that draped over one side of his face and drew to a point at the corner of his mouth. His mouth dangled open like a cavern unwilling to yield beneath a mountain. And he was utterly scraping the ceiling at this bug’s view angle, an easy handful of inches over six feet. And as always his nose was a Monumental shape of art too.

Pheo turned & snapped, “Chill out, Rovo. I came to retrieve him first so you’re the tardy party. Then we got carried away with some speculations and jokes.”

“So sorry to infringe upon your private ideas,” he spat. “But the old guy sent me to find you two. Y’alls absence is delaying our efforts to move forward.” He cast a vexed look at his sister. “He was afraid something had captured your attention.”

“Not what it looks like bro,” I insisted.

Perhaps he rolled that one visible eye. “Don’t bullshit me, man.” He groaned. “Of all times. We have bigger fish to fry. Maybe literally.”

“I just wanted to take a leak,” I grumbled. “I inherit spies...” and gestured either arm at the duo surrounding me.

“I hope you enjoyed yourselves,” he said, wryly.

“Give us a moment?” entreated Pheo.

Rovone’s stance tightened, & neck bulged. “How many more minutes do you freaking need!”

Phoenix pursed her lips and cocked her head. After a modest stare down, he tapped his wrist cantankerously. “One minute. I’ll be waiting outside,” and he departed.

Phoenix shook her hair. “The ignorance of brothers.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I stated.

She winked. “Thick-headed.”

“What was he supposed to think?”

She set her jaw open in annoyance. “I mean who just assumes in a flat second, the snippet they see is the whole situation? And then to try and tie me to HIS game-clock...”

“Hmm, I can partially agree - but we did lose focus. However I’d like a quick moment to invite you to the school Drama club,” I proclaimed. “You make sensational portrayals and passionate reasoning.”

“Nuh Uh,” she observed askance, and rose to her feet. But I could tell she was very likely celebrating her prowess beneath the surface. “The shocked faces of my victims must forever accentuate my Legacy of Command. I will never vary my roles.” Annnd there was the proof.

I bared my teeth in deference. “Oh, you dastardly assassin.”

I brushed some dust & grime off my clothes, then walked over to the cabinet mirror overhanging the sink to better examine myself: Take a good look. This may be the last one you’ll ever get. Placing my palms flat upon the surface of the counter, I leaned closer: my bushy brows, worried eyes, thin ramp nose, and shaggy hair dangling near camouflaged shoulders. Some dirty locks sagged, still damp, even boasting new rounds of perspiration after those recent anxious exchanges.

Phoenix had come to stand next to me, also gazing into the glass, probably at herself, possibly me -- maybe both.

I recalled the first part of the day. “This started out one straight-forward Saturday. Woke up, ate some Banjo Strings cereal, played with my cats, went to the Diner while chewing the risks of our Operation - but it never exactly settled & caused my video game play to suffer -- so I did a workout to let off steam until it was about time to meet up with you guys at the park. Now i’ve been attacked by more leeches than I can count - and some kind of toilet Siren.” I threw a mock, sideways glare.

“Posh,” Pheo enunciated. “I spilled coffee all over my favorite stealth Top, which is why I’m wearing last year’s bothersome Christmas Gift special.” She briefly yanked at the collar of tight-fitting, green polyester currently draping her shoulders.

“So that’s why my humming song of choice summoned you,” I couldn’t resist finding a common *thread.

“Actually, it’s probably the other way around isn’t it?” she measured. “Your subconscious was already brooding on my outfit, and remembered the season from whence this snowsuit came.”

“Please, that’s your worst wardrobe item. I prefer all your brighter colors.”

“Ok shut yer trap and just hear about how my morning came to that. When I took out the trash, (which I should have tossed this godforsaken Top into) I got attacked by a hornet, and then I misplaced my car keys right before driving to the park so I was late. When I did find them, I remembered about my fresh coffee and scooped it up on the go, but I stumbled out the door in my rush & it roasted my forearm. Honestly, been a rotten day from the start.”

“Well that literally must have stank. Sorry about your arm too. I think the trash could’ve waited ’till you got back home. It doesn’t mix well with coffee.” I said in repulsion. “How do you like your coffee anyhow? I only do sugar, so I might as well stick to pastries and milk.” This earned me a ‘Really’ look.

“I take it black - but why don’t you even care a hornet chased me?” she asked.

“I meeeaan, that was a lot to process. And I feel like that part’s maybe just a cover story, since I know you aren’t afraid of weightless little bugs,” I teased. Then cleared my throat pointedly. “But black coffee is a real worry. That will turn you South american in a jiffy.”

She rolled her eyes. “One: hornets are agile & they aren’t small! Two: we’re basically in the Caribbean already, you moron,” she emphasized. “Three: they have Loads of sugar down there, so that would work out really well for you, Softie.”

“Haw Haw,” I defended. “I shall repress my sore pride with artificial laughter since I was insulted from every Cardinal direction, miss Edge-yu kay-Tar. But when they rearrange the map for you, let me know.” And I exited the bathroom.