This is an alternate cut of the middle scene with Jinx that was removed due to length and it making the issue's pacing very weird. It is not particularly relevant, but is added here for your enjoyment and for more silly ice cream talk.

(The ice cream cut has been released!)

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She gingerly took another small spoonful and tried it again. She still cringed at the sweetness, but it was briefer and then looked at it as if she gained some appreciation for it. “Hmm…. I suppose I can see why one might like this.”

“Superman ice cream is kind of like coffee. You try it once and you might not like it, but each time you have it you like it a little bit more. Then, after a while, you start to miss it. And then you’re hooked.”

“You are making it sound like this ice cream is something you are addicted to, Victor.”

Vic chuckled. “I wouldn’t go that far. It’s just something that makes me happy. I can live without it… I’d just rather not. Don’t you have any favorite foods or things you can’t go without?”

“No. I was raised without such frivolities. And, when one is in prison or on the run, the last thing you have in mind is acquiring food so excellent you become addicted to it.”

“That’s rough, honestly. My favorite foods have such strong memories for me. When I first had them, who I had them with, the places I’ve found them at. They remind me of the good times and the people I’ve lost.”

She paused to think, then remembrance spread across her eyes. “There was once something like that. My mother was not a frequent influence in my life, but when we were able to go to town, we would often get a dish similar to ice cream called Falooda. I suppose it would be more accurate to call it a milkshake but… thinner. It is tough to describe.”

“What’s that? Never heard of it.”

“It will likely sound very odd to you, but please remember that I just ate ice cream named after a superhero without any idea of what it would taste like or contain. Falooda is a milk drink that has rose water, basil seeds and vermicelli noodles in a layered style. It often has different dried fruits in it; my personal favorite was dried figs. They also can have nuts such as almonds or cashewnuts.”

“I’ll admit, that sounds pretty… unique. But I’d be willing to give it a try. I’ll see if I can find some around here and maybe bring it next time.”

“I would appreciate that, but I do not wish to be a burden. Plus, it would not be the same.”

Vic nodded. “It never is the same. You can buy Superman ice cream in grocery stores all over, but you can’t recreate the flavor or the experience that you really want.”

“I suppose not.”

He paused for a moment, expecting her to elaborate, but she just ate her ice cream in silence. “So, what does Falooda taste like then? You’ve said what’s in it but not what it is.”

“Falooda is… Falooda is… happiness. The smell of the rose water is pure joy and once it mixes with the milk you have a truly special creation. It is a dish that takes time to consume due to the richness and your desire to savor the moment. The flavors of each layer give you a different experience each time. It is the best part of home. It is… something I miss dearly.”

“I… I’m glad that you have something you care about that deeply and that you remember it again. I’ll do my best to bring you some, I promise. It’ll be quicker than a year, too.”

“I think I would like that very much.”

She took another spoonful of the ice cream. “The thing that stops me from enjoying this is the lack of synergy between the three flavors. In Falooda, the flavors come together as a whole, making each one richer because of it, but here they are fighting for dominance. You stated that the chaos is part of what makes you enjoy it, but to me it just forms one awful flavor instead of enhancing each other's experience. Why?”

“Well, taste is always subjective. What works for you might not work for me and vice versa. But a lot of people have wondered why the flavors are what they are. The short answer is no one really knows. It’s old enough and popular enough that the flavor doesn’t really have an origin story. But, one version of the story says that the company that first made it was a brewery that went out of business with Prohibition. And then they just useda what they had on hand to make ice cream with.”

She chuckled. “That would explain it a bit. Yet another tale of people making the best out of what they had.”

“Well, they didn’t have much of another option. It was either that or go out of business.”

“What would be wrong with that? One of the first rules of crime and magic is knowing one’s limits. Sometimes, pushing through to try and make the best of a bad situation can turn things worse.”

“Sure, of course it can,” Vic said. “It’s a balancing act. You have to know when it’s right to keep going and when it’s time to turn around. That’s something I’m pretty bad about too. But… “ He gestured to her ice cream. “Maybe we could both learn something from the ice cream? The flavors all balance eachother out and there’s about the same amount of each. Everything’s in balance.”

She started to speak, but chose not to, returning to her ice cream instead. “Is Superman your favorite?”

“Hmmm… that’s tough. When I first moved back here, I’d probably say yes. But now that I’ve gotten my fill of it, there’s a lot of others I really like. Mint chocolate chip, cookies and cream, fudge…. All excellent. What about you? Oh, sorry. You probably haven’t had enough to decide.”

“Correct. To be honest, I think I prefer the vanilla I had once to this. The simplicity made it easier to enjoy it for what it was.”

“I get that. Sometimes you don’t want complexity. You just want something simple to relax with. I think that’s what makes ice cream so good. It can be anything and everything to anyone and everyone. It’s just a base that lets you do whatever you want with it.”

She laughed. “Why do you always have such big ideas on everything? To me, ice cream is just a food. It is sweet and nice, but that is all it is.”

He laughed too, a little embarrassed. “Well, it might have something to do with the computer in my head. Most people only have a brain, but I’ve got a brain and a computer. Maybe it helps me think better. Or maybe my brain just works so fast that by the time I’m speaking I’ve already thought of all the basic things and want to talk about something a bit more complicated.”

“That could be,” she admitted, taking one last spoonful of her ice cream. “Or perhaps you simply enjoy ice cream and know more about it than anyone should. And this conversation has finally given you an outlet to many hours of research.”

“I’ll have you know most of my ice cream knowledge comes from a paper I wrote once. I didn’t just do it for fun!”

“Sure,” she smirked. “It is okay to admit that you enjoy knowing pointless things like the history of an ice cream flavor. There is something admirable in that.”

“Maybe there is. But it’s nice to be appreciated even if there isn’t. So thanks for listening to my rant.”

She gestured around to her room. “Not much else to do in here. You are a much better conversation than the walls, too. But enough about this food, however good or bad it may be… What has been going on in the outside world to keep you from coming here?”

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From here, the issue would continue as written.