Chapter Text
“Katie, for fucks sake, you're not buying that shit.”
“It's just 5 diamonds!” She insisted, trying to pull away from his grip on the back of her suit jacket, her hands stretching to grab the bottle from Foolish, but the ‘dealer’ kept hidden behind a pillar by the spawn.
“My diamonds! That you’re, also, just giving away!” he huffs, “also for a bullshit lie.”
“He said they were drugs!”
“It's literally water.”
Katie warbles a complaint. She knew drugs and also knew water, and could differentiate both, thank you very much.
Those were 100% drugs!
“I think I-” she stops what she's saying when her eyes land on a bright yellow building a bit off the path. “What's that?!”
The ram pauses and follows her point finger, “I have no idea-”
“Let's go there!”
“I'm not fucking- God damn it,” he gives up when Katie drops from a ledge, flaring her wings, barely getting any air. She had been learning to fly with Phil; Katie had assumed her wings were stunted till meeting the crow who helped her understand her biology a bit better. Now she would just hover a few feet before falling or bat her wings to lift off the dust and annoy the people around her.
He sighs when he sees the avian trip over her own feet; she just got back up and kept jumping around till she reached the store. Once Schlatt got there she had already made her way inside and was trying on everything her grabby talons could reach. “Stop fucking touching shit.”
“They're hats! Mr. J look,” she put on a propeller hat, and made it spin, “look at it!”
“I'm looking.” Though he wished he wasn't. His armchair and cigarette back home were calling to him. He wanted to be home hours ago, but right when he was turning around, caught a glimpse of the stupid white bear looming close to where Katie was making a mess.
Fucking Cucurucho had been following her for who knows how long, and now couldn't, in good conscious, leave her alone. Not when she wasn't even capable of fighting a simple mob.
“Hello, hello! Customers, we love to see that!” He turns, finding the duck-hybrid sitting cross-legged on a corner table. His stunted wings flapping when he sees Katie hovering over the hats, “What's up, what's up?”
Schlatt grumbled a faint greeting, “You have a hat shop now?” The last time he had seen Quackity was right before his travel, and by then he was completely certain the duck was living inside a boulder, but somehow he now built an entire shop? As he glanced around he fixated on the details and the fine building, neither of which the duck possessed. “Did you pay to have it built?”
Quackity breathes out, rubbing his hands togethers, “well, when you're this successful…”
“Oh bullshit.”
“The business was flourishing and I needed a physical place,” he said, chuckling when Katie removed the propeller to switch it for a giant bear head. “I’m noticing that the CEO is interested in some furry action.”
Katie didn't defend herself, simply turned around, fixing the bear-head till it looked straight at where she assumed they were standing (they weren't there, she was now looking at the wall). “Look, I'm Cucarocho!”
“Cucurucho.”
“Yes, him!”
Schlatt sighs, turning back to the duck as he beamed at the avian struggle to say some stuff in Spanish.
“So, what? Finally decided to get a job?”
“Look who's talking! You have an NFT scam, don't act like you're better than me. This is a family-friendly, honest, business!” There's no way he could ignore the emphasis he put on the word.
“It's not a scam, and you fucking know it.”
“Yes, it's a scam! You always make up those coin shits and they're always worthless-”
“Not a scam! it's a solid business with a- why is it silent?”
Every time the avian was silent it meant disaster. Both quit their bickering for a second, looking around the shop; his fur fluffed when the room lacked the pink anywhere. Just as he opened his mouth the call her, she popped from behind a table-
No way.
“Look at this! I love them!” Her wings clapped behind her in a frenetic rhythm as she ran to a mirror placed near the register, “I'm so getting them, Quackity, how much are they?!”
While the stupid duck found it hilarious enough to wheeze, Schlatt felt the beginnings of a headache at the bridge of his nose and behind his eyes.
“You're not-”
“It’s free if you wear it everyday!
“I will!
“You aren't!” he yelled but both ignored them, busy enough shaking their feathers at their mutual foolishness.
“Katie, I'm begging you to wear it!”
“No need for begging, I want nothing less than this!” she puffs her wings, letting a high pitched warble that only made Schlatt grunt, as he hits his hoof hard against the floor.
“I'm going to kick your ass,” he muttered to the laughing duck.
“Whyy?”
“You’re being such a dick-”
“If she likes them then she can have them! Let the kid express herself. Isn't it enrichment or some shit?”
“That’s not it at all-”
Chirping makes them turn back at the avian, “I look like you!” She cackled, running to the mirror in the corner.
Big plastic horns adorned her stupid head, and while she looked ridiculous in his eyes, she seemed to be completely happy with them.
“You're not going home with those-” shit. Saying home implied something mutual. He turns to leave before she can catch his slip. “Move on, I want to make it before sundown.”
“Yes, sir! Bye quackity!
“Adioooos.”
He tries to keep silent as they walk back home, but Katie seems to be already distracted by herself. She bounced up and down, flapping her wings as she hummed a song beneath her breath.
Schlatt curses when they pass by the polish gang and he glances at the translator, looking away when the word ‘horns’ comes back. Katie still pivoted to them showing them off while he kept walking.
Thump. A bleat escapes from his lips, and he turns, eyes wide at the whining avian rubbing her head with tears on her eyes, “the fuck- did you just head-butt me?”
“Ow, ow, ow, fuck, that fucking hurt.”
“Of course it fucking hurt, are you stupid?!”
“Why did it hurt?!”
“Of course you hurt yourself, you idiot, they're plastic.”
“Yeah but yours are real-”
“I’m a ram! That's why they don't hurt!” He resumed the walk, the avian following closely; from the corner of his eyes he could see fix the horns. “And move on, it's getting late.”
They keep in relative silence for a minute or so. Without looking at her, he could almost hear the gears turning in her head. Many thoughts could be rummaging in that empty head but he let her find them.
He hears the throat clearing, and has to hold back a sigh of his own, “If you wanted to call me ram you could, y'know?"
“I'm not calling you that.”
“But I am one.”
“Not really
“I have the horns!”
“That doesn't make you a ram.”
“Well forgive me, not everyone is blessed enough to be born with horns and,” she looks down at his hooves, “daggers in your feet.”
Schatt opens his mouth, but decides it's not even worth it to correct her. He drowns out what she says about ‘rams like them’. They're just one bridge left from their own island when they walk by Juan who greets them and he reads the translation of his words.
‘Cute, you're matching!’
Katie visibly beams at it, thanking him as Schlatt walks faster wanting nothing more than to escape the conversation.
(He would never say how his chest puffed, or his lips curved in the faintest of smile. No fucking way.)