Challenge Submission Cone O' Cold

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Challenge Submission Cone O' Cold

SoItGoes

Serf
Local time
Today 2:58 AM
Messages
24
Age
27
Location
USA
Pronouns
She/Her
Hans Frost had been called many things since first opening Cone o' Cold, but until now no one had actually compared him to a demon. His fingers fidgeted with the buttons of a cotton shirt, while the faint droning of a woman complaining passionately about him filled the room. If there was one thing Hans missed, it was silence. Long hours of inquisitive silence had struck him with the brilliant but simple idea of an ice cream parlour. Why was it he had decided the silence should be over? Was it an accidental slip of his mind? An oversight in all of his planning and business savvy?

Hans shrugged this line of questioning off, turning not to address the complaining woman but to reach lazily for his bag. The ebony-haired seductress droned on incessantly about Hans' imperfections, his lack of selflessness, or rather his lack of empathy. Hans imagined people birthed these sorts of thoughts only out of their own insecurities. Had the woman never decided to spend the night then mayhaps she wouldn't feel so 'rightly' annoyed. But, she had, and so she complained.

Unfortunately for her, Hans had little time for 'pleasantries' today. He had little time to offer breakfast, to woo her, and to eventually lose her interest. No, today was far too important. He glanced at the gnomish watch strapped around his wrist. It read noon, so he hustled at double speed. Collecting the heavy leather bag, his gloves, and hat. Never once looking at the woman in his bed. In hindsight, he regretted avoiding her. But Hans was the man he was, he hurriedly moved from his house and out into the heat of Mythmore.

The air radiated with a warmth that was not, should not be, intended for living creatures. Hans figured (knew) that such astounding heat was certainly an oversight by the astral forces that had created The Crown Realms. The cobblestone was burning through the thin leather heels of his shoes. Despite the horrendous day, Hans was gleaming with a smile. A heat wave, a heat wave was good. Certainly not good for everyone, but for Hans it was a splendid gift of a day. He hopped from stone to stone down the street, giving a playful salute to a crowd of guards. They were less than pleased by Hans' cheery demeanor, being trapped within cages of armor on Mythmore's hottest day didn't incline the guardsmen to share in Hans' joy. Hans ignored the glares and hushed cursings of his name. He was on a mission that would only start when he'd reached the Cone o' Cold stall.

Several of his magi had already arrived, channeling their powers to summon ice mephits that would serve dutifully to keep the sweet treats cold during conjuring. Hans stopped to stare giddily over the fruit of all his labour; his employees, the majesty of utilizing magic to conjure food, all of it. Many had considered Hans' use of the magi and his powers to be a disgrace, but those folks weren't bedding ebony-haired seductresses and swimming in pools of gold were they?

Hans shifted behind the counter, swinging his sign on its hinges so it moved from 'Closed' to 'Open'. Immediately a small crowd of onlookers cluttered around to form a less than orderly line. Hans ignored the hounding nature of their demands, driven by the prospect of a good day of business. Eventually, to his dismay, the crowd lulled. Customers were wandering away with their cones of ice cream held proudly in their hands, off to find their next adventure. Hans was a patient man however, he could wait. Keeping busy by ordering the elementals around and staying up to date on the magi's conjuring needs and specifications. That was until two elves caught his eye, a distant gleam of tanned skin kissed by the sun with a pepper of freckles and next to it a glowing white body of creme.

If Hans had much time for regarding women as attractive, which he adamantly stated he did not, he would have found the two to be particularly good-looking. A thought which, at that given moment, annoyed him more than it delighted him. Hans did not have time for women, with their pretty hair all scantily clad in summer wear-

He shook his head sharply, trying to expel the thought. He resented the notion that he could be so easily distracted from his ice cream empire. Powerful, respected, and successful businessmen did not have time to be distracted. He told himself this many, many times as the two approached. A faint giggle of chiding remarks was made by the small pale blonde one, the taller and tanned girl only retorting with a bemused smile. He gave his best attempt at a cold blank stare at the duo, feeling pressured to not slip up in his ways. The blonde woman regarded the leering nature of Hans with a sharp tutt from her lips before she began her order. Hans almost hadn't heard her, consumed by inspecting the auburn-haired one, her lips were pursed in a smile of epic proportions. It was built entirely for Hans, or at least he wanted to imagine that was so. Had she ever smiled at anyone quite like that? He'd hoped not.

"I'm sorry, what?" He broke free from the trance the girl had on him, regarding the smaller one then. She glared before pointing violently at one of his signs, it read 'Single or Double Scoops'. The girl leaned over to tap one of her nails on the 'single' portion and then quickly flashed him two fingers, Hans stared completely befuddled by the gesture.

"Oh! Oh, yes. Two single scoops, you got it." He flashed her a quick thumbs up, a gesture which he had never done before. It felt awkward. He felt awkward.

"F-flavors?" He inquired timidly, feeling like he was on the precipice of losing two customers.

"Strawberry and," the blonde woman paused to look at her companion. Ami had expected to see Izzy still at her side, and she'd been certain that if the two of them could just get their order out to the bumbling buffoon of a man standing in front of her now- Then perhaps, just perhaps, she would be able to uphold her promise of ice cream. Unfortunately, Isobelle had about the same attention span as all the woodland creatures she constantly doted over. The girl had wandered curiously in the opposite direction, staring upwards at a tree and a robin perched within its bramble.

"Right, chocolate," Ami said confidentially, hoping she could infer Isobelle's favorite flavor purely from the few months they'd spent together. Hans stammered a quiet 'Yes, Ma'am', before meandering over to the mages. He passed along the order and eventually, albeit awkwardly, made his way back to the counter and offered the two cones to Ami.

"Fifteen copper," Hans mused, his subconscious suddenly beginning to scream. Fifteen copper was a laughable amount to charge for ice cream during the summer. Hans might as well have handed them the ice cream free of charge, fifteen copper didn't even cover the cone.

"Fifteen copper, huh?" The smaller woman inquired, her lips forming a grin that pierced through Hans' stupid face. A grin that suggested she knew all too well how little fifteen copper was for the ice cream. Hans' mind began to churn. He had a rare opportunity here, a second chance to right his wrong. He'd simply explain that it'd been a slip of the tongue, fifteen copper was far too lo-

"Fifteen copper," he repeated, the little voice inside of his head doubling down on its screaming. The girl watched him curiously, examining the stiffening of his neck, the slight twitch of his left eye, and the beads of sweat forming on his brow. Ami was certain he was either having an aneurysm or was just woefully unprepared for speaking to women. Whichever was true, it seemed to amuse her greatly, and for that Hans resented her.

"Fifteen copper," the girl stated while fingering a few coins in the palm of his hand. She gave him little time for response, turning quickly and starting with a slight skip and a hop in the direction of Isobelle. Hans ultimately was left frozen in place, his eye still twitching, his hand awkwardly cupping the coins.

It was hard to pretend the whole of his workforce hadn't witnessed the exchange. But Hans' magi did their very best to keep their glances to a minimum. Eventually, one rather brave soul made their way over and jovially slapped his back.

"S'ok, Sir. Just a gift to entice future customers, right?" The attempt at reassurance caused a single vein in Hans' forehead to pulse.

"Right. A sample." Hans brushed the hand off his back before wagging a palm to dismiss everyone back to their duties. He stared blankly down at the shop counter with new nagging questions about his business savvy and the crushing reality of his apartment being left unattended with a woman, who rightfully did not like him, loose within.
 
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