[member="Tes Dralyn"]
The first thing he noticed was the myriad of voices. They sounded young or at least younger than him. That took another moment to register, before he peeled off the scarf that was now matted with milkshake, and chucked it off down the path somewhere. He didn't want to deal with that... sticky... matted... eugh feeling. Not with even more teens pouring out of the ice cream parlour he'd just so happened to walk in front of.
"Kids... and this is why I frequent cafés..." he couldn't help but grumble internally.
He accepted the hand, oblivious to whomever was the owner of it, and chirped a thanks as he dusted himself off and got flexed his fingers in disdain as the milkshake was drying on his hands. He pried himself painfully out of the obsessive-compulsive nightmare and refocused his attention to those who were now gathered around him. The first thing he noticed was he was more than likely the tallest one here. His gaze went from the girl he'd evidently run into, and his people-watching focus shifted to a blurt of apology, regardless of anyone and everyone else.
"Oh no, I'm sorry," he rattled out a mile a minute, "I'd get you a new shirt if I could but I don't have any spare credits with me, but-" he was cut off by a voice piercing his train wreck.
[member="Jan VonFowl"]
The next kid's demeanour dripped with self-importance and arrogance. Even Leon could see it within these five-or-so seconds he'd been looking at him. Leon offered a wary nod in reply to the presented question of the negativity of his drink being lost to the road, but the following conversation just rubbed the young man the wrong way. There was a nearly palpable air of tension between these two, and Heath's two reactions were to either not get involved or step up for the pretty one. The latter won out and, in a typically passive-aggressive way, and as the boy spun toward the door and made his quip, Leon rolled his eyes, looked skyward, and muttered just loud enough,
"Some kids and their mouths."
