#mitch-nom

There really was no explaining what exactly Mitch was about to walk into. Lailani had shifted from foot to foot, her fingers fluttering to her only-recently-healed temple, searching for some way to warn him as they approached 3 Blue Robin Ave’s rickety old porch that clearly had not been fixed up despite Marv’s insistence she’d get to it eventually. Lailani remembered being around eight the first time she’d heard that promise made.

One step before the deep green door (freshly re-painted, interestingly enough), Lailani turns to Mitch, her mouth open like she’d found something to say. She hadn’t really, but now she has to try. “My family is... a lot,” she offers quietly, lamely, with a little twist of her hand that adds nothing to her words. She could look for more to say, but there simply may not be anything, and in any case it’s been years since she’s had the chance to visit. Nothing looks as if it has changed, but what does she know? The door opens right then in a gust of incense smoke before anyone has a chance to knock.

Nikki is in the doorway then, their permanent bedhead a surprisingly nostalgic sight for her. From their exhausted glare, the sentiment doesn’t appear shared. “I told you,” they call over their shoulder into the house’s depths. “She brought someone with her.” They’re muscled out of the way by an older, smilier, far more confident version of Lailani who immediately crushes her niece into a hug, not a care in the world about privacy or powers. “What a lovely surprise! Although we did see it comin’, but you know. We’ve missed you so much!” Eliza’s eyes flash when she catches sight of poor Mitch standing alone just behind them. “And who is this? A little young for you, no?” She’s neither quiet nor subtle, and Lailani’s blush is fierce.

“This is Mitch, and he is a friend,” she mutters, but it hardly matters. Eliza has already yanked the boy into her arms and then into the house. They’re headed straight for the kitchen. A gaggle of mismatched shoes is lined up in the crooked hallway, directly in their path. Lailani follows, waving at familiar faces and ducking under curtains, around stray tables, dodging the clutter like she never left. Or like it hadn’t moved over the past near-decade, who’s to say.

She finds Mitch being coerced into a chair at their cramped kitchen table across from her grandmother, who smiles at him with a gleam in her eye and accepts Lailani’s kiss on her cheek with a contented sigh. “Your mother is with a client, but she’ll be done soon enough. I like your friend.”

Lailani heads for the stovetop, pouring herself some tea without further ado and then taking the seat beside Mitch. “His name is Mitch at the moment.”

“Welcome to the house, Mitch at the moment.” Carmen reaches across the purple tablecloth, pats his hand. Every line around her eyes and lips serves to accentuate her sharp, knowing expressions, like age has given her the ability to look directly into a person’s being. For all Lailani knows, it did, and she mostly uses the power for good. “Think of it as yours now. We won’t have it any other way.”

Eliza has already hopped back and forth between eight different cabinets and the table, seizing the moment to lean in over Mitch and pinch his cheek like she hadn’t just met him. “What can I get you, skinny thing? I’ve got tea at the ready, and food will do you good.” Lailani sips from her cup, watching Mitch from the corner of her eye. A smile threatens to tear across her face but she suppresses it as best she can.

Her nerves were utterly shot, having spent most of the previous day jumping at every pin drop and much of the night tossing back and forth in fitful sleep. She’d been awake since before dawn, unable to drift back off, too aware of how solitary she was in her bedroom.

What if she came back, snarling and adamant to show her more?

But it was hard to go to anyone in particular for company. Rose deserved a break after their trip, not just from Lailani but from everyone, really. Salma’s reaction had been... complicated. Dana would have so many questions and Lailani truly just felt lost every time she recalled the vice grip on her arms or the hunger in her reflection’s eyes. Just thinking about it made her quiver and look over her shoulder.

When she got too hungry to avoid it any longer, she tiptoed to a kitchen, freezing when she saw a figure already at the counter. Just like on the roof with Kian, her pulse picked up, but she recognized this silhouette faster. She went straight to him without announcing herself, wrapping her arms around his chest and clinging like he was a life raft.

after the scene at the council chambers, aeron isn’t so sure that he shouldn’t have just let that canine instinct off it’s leash and eaten the cat.  and yes, cats are arseholes in general... but most of the time they don’t have the capacity to do it verbally at the same time.  it was hard to imagine that the sliver of soul feiyan had imbued the creature with to give it life could turn out to be that much of a dick.

and - y’know - they’d been trying.  that little display certainly was - not - a great way to get scared people to cooperate... belittling and frightening them even further.  

...which is why, when he finds himself in the presence of mitch, there’s some kind of reasoning in his own mind that maybe they could let off a little of that tension with a moment of laughter...  something to break the nature of this terrible atmosphere... a smile might just help... even with concern aforefront in everyones mind about the wellbeing of the world, it did no-one any good to quake themselves into a trembling state of worried anxiety.

small paws pad silently across the tabletop - and a tail flicks in the air - a crude mimicry of the behaviour of their latest -- guest???  pet??? ( he doesn’t really know what to refer to the cat as - other than ‘arsehole’ -  but he doesn’t care so much either... )

❝ definitely can’t blame the attitude on being a cat... ❞

the voice of death sounds rather odd ( and admittedly has a slightly strange tone to it ) as it booms out of a miniature furball about the size of mitch’s hand.

❝ ...maybe he’s just pissed off because of an eternity of butt licking or something and... before you ask, no... i prefer a shower, thanks. ❞

he supposes he could blame the ‘less than stellar’ attitude on worry. they were all afraid in some way -- of what had happened, of what might be happening.  and if the noxious feline in their midst right now was as attached to feiyan as he claimed, then likely he’d have more cause to worry at her absence than anyone...   still, sticking the boot in ( or claw in his case ) while people were already down, wasn’t the best way to rally a consolidation.

another flick of a tail and a few more steps before the mighty form of D E A T H ( or... as it was, the currently miniature and fluffy form of death ), sat down on the table and looked up at the quiet fool.  there’s a shrug - or the ‘human part’ of aerons brain attempts to shrug, but his shoulders are arranged differently like this and he just kind of slides along the table a few inches instead...

❝ whatever - maybe it’ll be of some help.  talking animals huh...  freaky. ❞

obvious sarcasm - even in this form, a wry tone is clear ( though at that point he does catch sight of his own tail and the ‘cat’ part of his brain in this form is distracted, one little paw trying clumsily to catch it )...