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"Do I really gotta?" Boothill's voice echoed down the silent corridor, the light tinkling of the spurs on his boots punctuating his complaints, "I think it's a lil' soon ta be talkin' ta your bro 'bout everything, ain't it? I mean, don't get me wrong, you're my peach and I love ya heaps but ain't your brother a little..."
"He can be, but I just want him to know that I'm not that frail baby bird he needs to protect anymore," Robin's voice joined in, before she hummed to herself, almost melodious and contemplative, "I'm hoping that having some good news might cheer him up a little. You know what happened in the dreamscape did a significant number to him...if he sees I'm in good hands, maybe that'll help him put his heart to ease and recover faster."
Boothill stopped at the door of the heavily-guarded ward, shooting the two Bloodhounds a dirty look as he turned to offer Robin his hand - the guards immediately bowed seeing Robin approach him cheerfully. "If ya insist, songbird. Surely bro-in-law needs a leg up, or a couple."
In truth, he'd seen what Sunday had done in the dreamscape - as a Galaxy Ranger, there was much he needed to do and a thwarted ascension wasn't on his cards. Robin however was an excellent catch along the way - really, it had been his fault pulling a gun on her when she first boarded the Express seeking help, and when she'd started melting down, he'd unwittingly found out about her humanitarian efforts, and her heart being as big as a Ranger's had sealed the deal.
They'd only barely started using the word "dating" around each other (he wasn't even sure why a cosmic superstar like her would even give him a second glance, not that he even knew until her fans had unkindly reminded him), and Robin was already insisting they meet Sunday on an official basis. To that, Boothill understood - she valued her brother's opinion greatly, and he figured if they were hopping onto the Express even temporarily to settle whatever loose ends at the IPC she needed to settle, she'd want to give him a heads up. Even then, he watched her carefully tiptoe in, and the frail-looking Halovian had turned towards her, his wings flapping eagerly before his face abruptly dropped seeing Boothill crab walk cheerfully into the room.
"Hiya, future bro-in-law! Gotta say, it's good ta see you in good spirits," Boothill had opened before Robin could open her mouth, grinning his signature sharklike grin, "Ya gotta recover soon, Robin's worried fuckin' sick about ya. Holy Wubbaboo, technology's so advanced these days. They can build ya a new everything, I'm sure! Ya just gotta hang on and give those hacks at the IPC heaps of Credits - won't recommend that route though."
Sunday's face darkened visibly, before turning to Robin. Robin grinned back, giving a cheery nod. "He's right. This is my boyfriend, Boothill," she chirped, resting her hands on her brother's, "He looked past me as 'Robin the superstar' and I can be comfortable around him. Besides, he's offered to escort me for my tour to promote INSIDE. You'd support me, won't you?"
"Why the fuck," Sunday rasped, his gaze fixed on Boothill, "Of all the heroes you've met here...why him?"
"Hey now, I'm a hero too! If I didn't shoot Tiernan's bullet, you'd probably have gone splat in the Golden Hour's pavement for goodsies," Boothill rested his hand on his hip, cocking it to the side theatrically, "I'm just as important as the guys on the ol' Express. Put some respect on the name 'Boothill', yeah?"
Robin nodded along at Boothill's words. "I know he's completely different from us, and of course, everything in Penacony, but...it's such a breath of fresh air for me, talking to Boothill and learning about everything. Isn't this what Xipe wants - for us to understand each other and live harmoniously?" she added on, though Boothill swore her grin seemed more mischievous than pleading, "I know he seems really rough around the edges, but under those metallic pecs, there's a heart of gold!"
If Boothill had any idea about what Halovians could do, it was that they had the miraculous ability to transmit telepathic emotions through their halos (he'd read up enough about Robin's interviews and downloaded all her magazines into his brain chip just for good measure). Sunday's halo, which had began rotating counterclockwise slowly since he'd first entered, radiated utter misery through the room.
Robin lifted her halo, where three tiny cowboy hats sat upon each "flower" on them. "See? He told me I could be a cowboy too, and designed these hats for me. The fanmeeting with the new decorations went really well - they're really soft too, you should try touching them," she continued, seemingly ignoring Sunday's aghast expression at her seemingly tainting her halo in this manner, "We could do more preparations for INSIDE's collaborations. I was thinking of a yodelling album with him too."
"Yeah, she yodels real good. Attracts all them space cows to our yard if there were space cows down here," Boothill could feel a sudden twang of discomfort all of a sudden, and it certainly wasn't Sunday's death glare directed at him, "Yanno what, y'all have some sibling things ta settle, so I'mma let y'all have some alonesies. I'll go downstairs and grab a couple drinks - ya want anything, songbird?"
Sunday's scowl deepened - he suddenly wished he'd died with the rest of the Choir. "Songbird?" he repeated incredulously, but Robin perked at the nickname, flashing Boothill another bright grin.
"One Authentic Sousa Juice for me, one for my brother," she cheerily responded, tilting her head, "I'll see you soon then, cowboy."
Boothill waddled out of the room without turning his back on either of them, backing up to the door and pushing it open behind him - they seemed to have lapsed into pleasant conversation, but man was their halos going at it. Was this some sort of Halovian fight to the death situation? It reminded him of the bladed spinning tops on some worlds that children played with, but he sensed that they had some other things to sort that was none of his business.
His emotional processing chips were buzzing, and it was giving him a headache. Robin never really used her powers on him that way, but holy Wubbaboo, if he was staying on in that room with Sunday, he felt like his processors were going to start melting. While he figured Sunday was going to be difficult about the entire matter... sheesh, he didn't think it was going to be this bad.