Chapter Eleven

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With the tinkling of a bell overhead, the demonic pair walked in to the oddly situated 'Mimi's Milkshakes'. Raven's nose twitched; it was exactly as bubblegum-pink-candy-dream-explosion on the inside as it was the outside. Nestled besides lingère shops for those of a more risqué taste, dingy bars, and a variety of other equally noir establishments, the shop stuck out like a sore thumb.

In spite of how awfully it slandered her macabre aesthetic, Raven smiled at the milkshake shop. It was cute.

Damian sauntered in after her. He passed an eye over the pastel countertops and cloud-shaped chairs, and his face contorted in a nose-scrunching manner very alike to Raven's. One thought took his mind- Stephanie Brown would love this hellhole of popular culture. With a raised eyebrow, he privately commended the stylistic continuity- even the machinery seen behind the counter was decorated with rainbow stickers and the like.

He didn't fancy trolls or any of Raven's brothers would be regulars at this sort of place. The man was taken aback when the milkshake barista (he didn't really know what to call someone who worked at a shop only selling milkshakes) finally came to the front counter to greet them.

Thick grey skin with drooping eyes and stubby fingers, the barista/troll towered seven feet at a minimum. She assaulted the two customers with a vaguely southern American accent and a grin flashing a missing tooth.

"Hiya I'm Umah, what canna get you lovebirds today?"

Damian blinked. He looked over the barista's head at the menu.

Vanilla...Chocolate...Old Socks...Strawber-

Damian read the sign again. Nope, there it was. Old Socks flavoured milkshake. Raven turned her attention to the sign and they shared a grimace. Amongst the conventional flavours featured (oreo milkshake, various Earth fruits) were a mix of fun, rather confusion choices, including but not limited to:

•Black Toad
•Elvish marijuana
•Olive and Chives
•Blood (sheep, rabbit, or human -available in types A positive, B positive, and O negative-)

"Uhm...I think I'll have a vanilla milkshake." Raven concluded, too confused and apprehensive to continue reading.

Damian glanced once more about the shop, then back up at the sign detailing blood and toad milkshakes.

He was curious, equally as apprehensive as Raven, but curious all the same. While Raven had a tendency to slink in the shadows and independently satisfy her curiosity, Damian was direct.

"Who are your primary clientele?" He asked the troll, more out of intrigue than to catalogue information.

The troll, Umah (as it indeed said on her name-tag), rolled her eyes up in thought, "Hm well...see...we're a real magic community here. And that's not all ancient, musty creatures...put it this way sweetie, I got regular vampire customers who got turned within the last few Earth years...those are Gen Z vampires hunny." She dipped her head forwards, "That clear things up?"

Huh... so this is where the younger magical creatures hung out...Raven was sure that Klarion must have known about this place, and was slightly stung that she'd not been brought in to this little enclave of the magical world. Then again, how many pocket realms and inter-dimensional corridors were there? Hundreds at least, she didn't doubt.

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