There are moments in one’s life so uncomfortably tense that the world itself seems to slow down. There was a picture painted in-between those slowed trills, a picture of a young brunette walking in, taking the Saun heat away with the sheer, icy rage displayed on all her manicured features. She didn’t look at Finn, she didn’t even acknowledge his existence. She simply reached into the pocket of her Black Guard uniform, her hand shaking with promised violence, and retrieved a piece of familiar parchment from it before slamming it down onto the table. It looked crumpled, almost as if a giant crab had been using it as a stress ball.
A very, very angry giant crab.
She picked up the parchment, uncrumpled it, and began reading from it. With liberal alterations to the content.
“Dear Fuckin' Fiona,” Zipper's voice was too high, too enthusiastic, too warm to be anything but a vicious threat; an oath of the hell that was to come. The harsh cadence of Ithession did not help the impression. “I am most definitely in the temple of Thetros, a place that definitely exists, in the very definitive heart of the largest congregation of savages and beasts in the world. I’m well and safe but, as a notorious liar, you can write me off for dead. Signed lovingly and with the utmost care, Finn” And only now did she look at him, and he fell under the shade of her cold, blue eyes. “A name that will henceforth be synonymous with cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt and, don't you dare stop me if you've heard of this one-” she leaned in a little closer, and said the next word real slow. "CUNT."
Finn sat up at once, straightening himself into perfect posture and he clenched his jaw. “I didn’t lie.”
“Oh, you’re gonna lie, O’Connor.” Zipper said, that sweet tone giving ground word by word to her natural surliness; a voice too young to be spitting the kind of cobra venom that came out of her mouth. “I have a nice tombstone picked out for you. No silly nancy pancy 'woe is me, a loved one has left the mortal coil' fanfare when we put you in, I promise. I'm gonna shove a pacifier so far up your cock you'll piss baby drool forever more.”
A silence lingered between them as Finn sized up his sister, dressed in the blacks of the city. She’d always been the more rigorous one and he wasn’t surprised that her leathers were impeccably cleaned and maintained, as was the rest of her. Ever since they’d been left at the orphanage, boys had been chasing after her brown locks, her doe-like eyes, her kissable lips and later, her curves too. For the first few arcs he had been too young to notice, and now he was at an age where he couldn’t help but notice. (Are you fucking kidding me, Matt? We do a collab and you saddle me with the incest? You utter and complete Judas.)
“I’m sorry to disappoint,” he said bitterly. “I thought you’d be pleased to see me.”
"I am." she said. "I'm always keen on vigilante executio- You think I'm joking, innit? I will shit on your head, rip off your neck, wolf down a bad bit of chicken, and shit some more. You will become a monument to all the shite you've accumulated with this little here vanishing act."
More silence. As good as shame as she ever was ever gonna get from him in recent years, she guessed. Zipper realized he’d grown a bit since they’d last seen each other, his skin had taken on a light tan and his shoulders weren’t as narrow as she remembered them to be.
Too bad it clearly didn't apply to his brain.
“Start from the beginning,” she said, cutting straight through her brother’s sentimental play. She was too tired, too annoyed, too experienced in his bullshit to partake in his game. “Where have you been? I strongly urge you to give me a better answer than some pouncy fairytail crapfest.”
