a starter for @cvpidgalore
Before their Stand User could even enter the establishment, Sex Pistols rushes inside. The belted out her name in a chorus that echoed on deaf ears. Far too excited to see the woman in question, the jetted right in her direction.
“It’s really Angel!”
“Hi, Angel!!”
“We missed you!”
Numbers One, Two and Three were the first to reach her. Each took place taking up her field of view. It was Six and Seven that landed in her luscious locks. The two Pistols were always careful, they all were, not to tug or rip her hair out. Simply, the loved how soft and bouncy the curls were.
Then came a sob from the odd one out.
The Number Five hovered a bit more back. From how it seemed, Five wanted to join the rest of the Pistols in greeting the young woman but hesitated. That could because of the young man that finally entered his usual groups section of the restaurant. “Hey!”
Mista stood a the doorway entrance, a finger pointed at the scene. “Get off her, guys! It’s rude!!” he spoke in a harsh and almost parental tone. Now, he was no father to his Stand, but with how immature and impulsive they acted at times, they occasionally acted as if they were young children. They lacked the social queues needed in normal human settings. So, ever so often, Mista had to put his foot down. This just so happens to be one of those times.
That and it was incredibly embarrassing.
All but Five ignored their User and continued to gush over the woman. This only sparked Mista’s irritation further not having his Stand listen to him. Pinky and pointer slipped into his lips and a harsh whistle shrieked, catching the Numbers attention in a gasp. Having their attention, Mista repeated, “I said, it’s rude. Get off her.” he asked in a harsh breath.
Five was immediately at his side while the others sunk, looking defeated and giving stubborn glances to one another. Slowly, one by one, they began to pull back from Angel, muttering in pouts and glares at their User.
