MHA #6, Monday Morning

[firstofitskind]

Liam woke at his usual absurdly early pre-dawn hour and slipped out of bed. Now that the island had definitely established a pattern of changing things around, his daily run had an added purpose, at least on Mondays: figuring out those changes and how they affected the island's layout.

Most notable, of course, was the fact that the island... didn't seem to be an island at the moment. For one, the dome up above made it quite clear they were underwater (if in a slightly different sense than a couple weeks ago). And the coastline, the lake, the Preserve... all gone. There was no actual physical divide between what was Fandom and what was wherever they were, but Liam turned back once he started venturing into streets and avenues with nothing even slightly familiar.

The less said about that encounter with the person in the mask who'd done their level best to make sure he didn't make it back to his apartment, the better. (He’d really liked that shirt, and it was now a lost cause.)

He opened the apartment door, only to be greeted with a chorus of "HAIL!!"s.

"Hail," he responded tiredly, stripping off the remains of that shirt and heading over to the kitchen for the first aid kit. "What are we hailing, anyway?" he asked absently.

"The Sacred Rite of 'What Nonsense Is This Island Pulling Now?'" one of the mice informed him.

"Yeah," Liam nodded. "Yeah, that tracks. It's still pretty early, though, maybe celebrate quietly until Verity's up?"

The mouse who'd spoken considered this, and then nodded. "We shall endeavor to Watch The Volume until the Arboreal Priestess has awakened." The pronouncement was greeted by a chorus of somewhat more subdued 'Hail!'s, and Liam noted that he'd made no promises about waiting until after Verity had coffee, but he wasn't going to push it.

That taken care of, he flopped down on the living room couch and got to work cleaning and bandaging the damage that whoever (whatever?) it was who'd attacked him had done.

[ooc: establishy, but also open.]

Comments

[firstofitskind]

“If you were the type to swoon at the sight of a little blood, you wouldn’t be the woman I fell in love with,” Liam retorted, grinning.

[arboreal_priestess]

"Swoon over the rest of you," Verity said, the side of her mouth kicking up. "You know, the kind the mice write songs about."

[firstofitskind]

Liam let out a long-suffering sigh. “Don’t know what I was thinking, bringing that up.” Because yeah, he absolutely should’ve known better. “Maybe it was the blood loss,” he muttered, mostly kidding. It hadn’t been that bad; he’d been a little woozy when he’d first gotten home, sure, but that was hours ago.

[arboreal_priestess]

"That you loved me and wanted to give me a present I'll cherish for always?" Verity suggested. "Especially since you also had to tell me that wherever we are has weak fuckin' coffee and psychos running about?"

[firstofitskind]

Apparently as far as Rapture was concerned, coffee wasn’t all that necessary when there were drugs that could give you superpowers. “I suppose those are all true statements,” he admitted. Even if he wished he’d been able to come up with some other sort of gift she would ‘cherish for always’. Like another weapon, perhaps.

[arboreal_priestess]

STAYING AWAKE WAS A FUCKING SUPERPOWER, OKAY?

"Look at it this way," she offered, patting his arm sympathetically. "I just know it's out there. I still don't know what it is. You've bought yourself a little grace."

[firstofitskind]

There was probably some sort of adrenaline rush that came with being able to do shit like shoot lightning from your hands or whatever.

"Maybe it was meant for my ears only," Liam said, innocently hopeful.

Not that he actually cared if she heard it or not, he just didn't want to be the one singing it.

[arboreal_priestess]

"You've met the mice, don't even try with that nonsense," Verity snorted. "They love to share."

And overshare.

[firstofitskind]

Given how much they’d been willing to share with him before he’d been officially adopted into their religion? Yeah, he knew.

“Fine,” he grumbled, with no real heat behind said grumble. “Just make sure I’m out of earshot when you do ask.”

[arboreal_priestess]

"I'll even wait until you're out of the house," Verity promised, eyes alight.

[firstofitskind]

“Your generosity knows no bounds,” Liam deadpanned, even as he fought to keep his expression something close to neutral.

[arboreal_priestess]

Verity leaned up to kiss him again. "I'm a giver. As you well know." She winked.

[firstofitskind]

"If that's what we're going to call it, sure," Liam replied, but he was smiling as he kissed her, so.

[arboreal_priestess]

"C'mon," she said, smiling up at him. "Why don't you give me a full report of the psychos that tried to carve you like a turkey and we'll figure out how we're gonna handle the next week, huh?"

[firstofitskind]

"With plenty of sharp implements of our own, for starters," Liam said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

[arboreal_priestess]

"Fortunately, you came to the right girl for that," Verity said, giving him a smile that made grown cryptids shudder.

It was entirely too gleeful.

[firstofitskind]

It may make grown cryptids shudder, but Liam was part-alien, not a cryptid, so it just made his expression soften into something fond as he smiled back down at her.

"Technically, I think that description could apply to half the other residents in this building," he pointed out. "You're undoubtedly the cutest, though, which made my choice clear."

[arboreal_priestess]

"I didn't say there weren't other options, just that I was the right one," Verity said, pulling out a whetstone and one of her collapsible axes. "I'm an all-in-one package of sharp implements, projectile weapons, and a killer stage-smile."

[firstofitskind]

"Sugar and spice and all kinds of knives," Liam recited with a grin. "That's the woman I love."