MHA #6, Wednesday Morning

[firstofitskind]

On top of the general feeling of irritability that had been simmering since Monday morning, yesterday Liam had come down with a fever. And for someone who'd never really been sick before in his life, the experience was, uh, kind of terrifying? Also terrifying were the grey scaly patches that had started to show on his skin.

Which is why he'd opted to sleep on the couch last night, because whatever-the-fuck this was, he wanted to minimize the risk of Verity getting infected. He'd learned his lesson with regards to doing things like leaving 'for her own good', which is why he hadn't gone with his first instinct which was to get as far away as possible.

'Sleep' was maybe a bit of a misnomer. 'Lie down and think horrifically violent thoughts every time he closed his eyes' was a bit closer to the truth. It certainly hadn't been the most restful of nights, though at least the fever had broken at some point?

A small mercy, given how much everything else hurt. The shaqarava were black now (like his eyes, not that he was aware of that, given that he'd yet to look into a mirror today), the ache traveling up the energy pathways in his arms to his very core. And his back... it felt like someone had taken a knife and twisted it into two very specific spots. All in all, not the greatest morning he'd ever had.

And things were only going to get worse from there!

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[firstofitskind]

Those brand-new wings unfurled, a warning of his own that she shouldn't come any closer.

[arboreal_priestess]

Their living room was not meant to hold anything with a wingspan as large as Liam's was. Verity would have filed it under 'good to know,' except for how there was nothing good about this situation.

"Liam," she said, voice still steady. "Talk to me. Use your words. Whatever the fuck this is wants you not to. So fight it."

[firstofitskind]

Words weren't happening. The problem was, he'd been fighting it for the past three days, without even realizing that's what he'd been doing. This was, unfortunately, the breaking point. He'd given in to the cold and the dark and the pain.

[arboreal_priestess]

Verity wouldn't blame him for it. Couldn't, really. At least, not when she had a chance to think about it, to realize what was going on and for how long.

But that was for later. When she didn't have a predator wearing her boyfriend's body, staring at her like it couldn't decide whether it wanted to flee or to feast.

Her knuckles tightened on her knives.

[firstofitskind]

His gaze shifted over to the window, the way out, and then back to Verity and her knives.

Decision made, he moved unnaturally quickly across the room, claws scrabbling to open a latch that was designed to be operated by human fingers.

[arboreal_priestess]

"Wait, Liam, no!" Verity said, forgetting common sense in her fear of what could happen to him if he got outside.

...Or maybe fear of what he could happen to.

[firstofitskind]

Wings flared out again and he bared his teeth at her in frustration. Words might have been beyond his understanding right now but he could still recognize tone, and here she was, trying to give him orders. He didn't care for that.

He turned his attention back to the latch, finally managing to get it open. He took a deep breath, the call exponentially louder now that he could smell the blight that infected the island in the air.

With one final, defiant snarl aimed in Verity's direction, he was out the window, letting the shadows guide him to where he was certain he needed to be.

[arboreal_priestess]

"Liam!" Verity yelled from the window. Into the empty night. "Come back! Please!"

She was answered by silence.