The Adventures of Milky

Chapter 2: A Game Between Rivals

The Sun lingered over the barren wastes, hanging in the sky like a picture adorned within a frame. The Frostpulse Barrens, as the landscape was called, was a cold, desolate area that harbored all but a warm welcome for any and all who dared the attempt to brave it. Its unpredictable blizzards and earth moving avalanches had claimed the lives of thousands, even before the great purge. Knowing this are a very inquisitive girl and an irritated delinquent who dare tread the great expanse of snow and ice.

"Hey Anchor, why's it so cold out here?" Milky inquired.

"Oh god, she's talking again!" Anchor clutched his head as suicidal thoughts began to roam freely. Perhaps he'd freeze to death before she had the chance to ask another irritating question? Oh, please, sweet hypothermia, lend him your cold embrace.

"I mean seriously was it always this cold?" She looked to her friend as he began to hurriedly remove his coat and outstretch his arms. "Hey? Are you listening to me?!"

"Just pretend she is not even there." He took in a deep breath of dry, chilled air. "Yes. I'm all by myself out here. All by myself," he muttered under his breath.

"Anchor?" Her lower lip quivered as her eyes began to water. "Are…are you ignoring me?" she asked with a sniff.

Anchor turned around with a plastic smile. "Of course not; I've heard every word you said. It's just that you ask so many questions that it takes my brain a while to process the information and give you the correct response," he ensured with a wooden tone.

"When will you have an answer to my questions?" she asked as her tears dried and she returned to her usual gleeful voice.

Anchor's fake smile sank faster than his IQ whenever she spoke. He muttered hateful rabble, trudging forward with a depressed expression as he felt his brain cells rioting.

"Anchor, hey, when will you have answers for me?!"

The raider stopped dead in his tracks, Milky running into him face first. "Ouch!" she squeaked while holding her nose. "You're just a big meany, Anchor!"

Anchor turned towards the girl with a sinister smile etched across his lips. He had a plan to soothe his headache. "How old are you Milky?"

Dumbfounded, the girl began counting on her fingers while muttering things such as 'multiply by two' and 'carry the one.' A few moments later she held up two fingers on her left hand and one on the right. "This many!" she exclaimed with a prideful smile.

"Three? Well, that explains a lot, actually."

"No silly, twenty one," she corrected triumphantly.

"Well then, I guess you're too old for that," he said condescendingly.

"Too old for what?" Anchor smiled at her reaction. He knew she would be too curious to not wonder what he had in store for her. His genius plan was rolling together perfectly.

"No, you're way too boring and dull to play this game." Anchor said with disingenuous intentions. Just a little more prodding and the fish would be on the hook.

She gasped. "A game? I-I'm not boring!" She shouted. "I wanna play!"

"Nope, sorry. Your boring like a corpse that won't return the favor."

"IwannaplayIwannaplayIWANNAPL AY!" She was practically on her knees.

Anchor's smile grew wide as he knew his mission was accomplished. "Well, if you insist," he 'gave in' with a chuckle, "we're going to play the quiet game." He masked his annoyance with a playful tone.

"What's the quiet game?" she asked confused.

"It's a magical game," he explained, "where the participant has to be very, very quiet until we get to a certain place, and if you can stay quiet the entire time I will indulge you with a prize of your choosing. Anything in wasteland! You name it, I'll get it."

Milky raised her arms in the air and opened her mouth to cheer. "But!" interrupted Anchor, causing her excitement to deflate like a balloon, "only if you remain quiet the entire time until we reach Xerxes Cross."

"Anything?" she drawled for insurance.

"Anything," he stated firmly.

"Like a dress!?"

"Yeah… sure."

"Or a Robot dog?"

"Yes."

"Or an Alamo snow globe!"

"Yes!" he exclaimed as he raised his arms in feigned enthusiasm.

"Even a revolver that every time I pull it out it makes a mysterious sound like—"

"Yes! Anything!"

Milky pulled back a bit. "I accept your terms, kind sir," she said with closed eyes extending her hand.

Anchor, realizing his victory, extended his own hand and shook hers wholeheartedly.

"Now remember no talking no matter what. Be as quiet as humanly possible."

"O-kay~"

"Your time starts…"

"Hey do you think we'll see any—"

"Now!"

Milky's mouth shot closed. She held her index finger and thumb together in the form of a circle, signaling her compliance. She then pulled a small notepad and pen from her trench coat and hastily scribbled something down.

Anchor's let a little smile cross his face. He exhaled the breath he seemed to be holding since the beginning of his endeavor and had it fly back and smack him in the face. His victory was short lived, for not a moment later, the two met face to face with a thrashing blizzard.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!"

Milky tapped him on the shoulder and offered her notepad. He snatched it from her grasp and glanced it over:

Ur Not Very Gud At Da Kwiet Gaym

From: Milky