aggressiveapathy | IC CONTACT

[Their room's curtains have been tautly drawn for a while now. And Will feels like he's been stark naked almost as long, which is seriously not a problem when he's laid up in bed with April. Really, there are absolutely no complaints here. There are covers and blankets if he gets cold, even though Florida's cold is nowhere near the same as Virginia's. Even when it's not going through...whatever the hell's actually happening right now. It's nice to be away from murderous shit, and nicer still to be away from it and cooped up with his wife.]

You have to pick a mainstream rock band from back home, any time period, deceased or not, to show up and become the gods of imPort rock...who's your choice?

[Yeah he put mainstream in there for a reason.]

Bette Midler. Obviously.

[ Did that count as main stream? She didn't care. It's a name old enough she's confident Will would have at least heard of her, though. Even if only April could call her a Rock band with a totally straight face.

But she rolls over enough to meet his eyes, blankets coming along to hide her own nakedness because warm. Florida had shit on Indiana, but it still felt nice. ]

[Only April indeed. Will breaks out into a throaty laugh, putting one hand over his forehead like he's fending off the flooding visuals of Bette Midler, imPort Rock Goddess, and all the fans who start doing their hair and fashion with her as their role model. Which in no way prevents his other from wrapping around her as she rolls, nope, that's a natural course of action at this point.]

Obviously. [Mixed in with the laughter, God, how could he be so stupid not to see the clearest choice for anyone faced with this question?] And, uh, what powers would the Porter give her, you think?

Bugle boy entourage. And the ability to turn into a swam of killer bees.

[She snorts softly as she presses back up against him and that trapping arm.]

You pick one.

[Not helping with the laughter, April. But it wheezes and dies out enough for him to try and come up with an equally obvious answer (thus ruling out Steven Tyler), dropping his hand from his face to push some of her hair aside.]

Mm...always thought Stevie Nicks was a fox. Definitely my first crush. Before I knew what crushes were. [Oh no. Secrets.] She could lead a cult. Or a revolution. Wouldn't even need any powers, just the hippies clothes.

[Well.]

And pot for all her followers.

Infinite hippie clothing and pot. Unstoppable power set.

[April gave a small yawn. It wasn't even that late- or early? What was time when there was no work- but they were just lazing in bed.]

One dead jerk from history you'd bring back here. As a vampire.

[The loveliest yawn ever. Tiny adorable hedgehog yawns had nothing on the sheer beauty he was being gifted with for his truly heroic sacrifice of keeping April entertained until the outside cleared itself up.]

Betsy Ross. [His other thoughts were all murderous types which he really wants nothing to do with, so he went with the first historical name he could think of who wasn't responsible for absolute horror and as soon as it comes out of his mouth he makes a face and follows with:] Was she a jerk?

Everyone's a jerk. Jerkmanity. It unites us all.

[This may be turning slightly mumbled as she just embraces the lovely comfort of stealing all of Will's body heat.]

She's the one that...like, burned the White House down or something?

[If April's comfortable, Will's comfortable. He can get his body heat back later. Or just pull up the covers if it becomes a thing, but for now he's too busy fiddling with her hair, licking his lips before trying to think of the best explanation for who Betsy Ross actually was.]

Yes. [He goes for instead, nodding like this is an absolute fact everyone knows. Betsy Ross, arsonist.] Kept adding states, changing her design for the flag. Had to show them she didn't appreciate it.

[Definitely taught in all American history classes.]

Mm, I remember. Her ghost is what happened to North Arizona.

[ Sage wisdom being shared all around right now. ]

Good choice. She would keep those commies in line.

[Wisdom and fun, new, not-that-sort-of-drunk history. Will can appreciate it. Peter Pan might not be such a bad guy after all (haha, no).]

Your turn. Historical jerk you'd choose to come back [WAIT FOR IT] as a centaur.

[Baltimore is littered with animal themes, okay, he's not about to pick werewolf.]

[Magical shadow stag and windego were also available.]

Genghis Khan...'s wife Börte. She's gotta have amazing stories.

[Das rude.]

Good pick. [His eyes shut, one hand running over his face as he thinks. It's a very thoughtful look despite the absolute disaster that is his hair.] Maybe she'd tell us how he died and where he's buried. Maybe she doesn't even know. Nobody else seems to.

[And then his eyes open wide, the sure sign of some great and terrible realization...]

What if he was a vampire?

[Or not.]

I'm still waiting for the most boring Mummy to give to Dorian. Mm. He probably doesn't count.

[She's silent for a moment for her own terrible realization.]

Unless he got really boring after he retired. Babe, you're not allowed to get that kind of old.

The boring kind of old or the embalmed-and-locked-in-a-sarcophagus kind of old?

[He may be dead but he doesn't have to go through that particular process, asking this with eyebrow raised and clearly quite curious for the clarification. Mummy husband could be cool if she got to rip his bandages right off.]

Both. I hate that smell. Or boring and formaldehyde.

[ Sexy bandage unwrapping they could do, but all major organs must be in place, thanks. ]

[April earns the most contented sigh known to any creature with ears as Will wraps his other arm around her and drags her down right atop him. The loosest, easiest to break out of cage made from flesh and bone ever.]

If I grow boring, you've got grounds for a divorce. [He turns his head to plant a kiss to her temple. If his nose gets filled with hair at any point he does not care.] S'the last thing I want. You've got nothing to worry about, me turning into a boring old bastard. Not gonna happen.

I know. That's why we got married. If that didn't make you boring, nothing can.

[ Not that she's cheering on the murder and general insanity. But hey. Better that joining a bowling league. ]

[He cranes his neck back to get a good look at her, fake horror on his face.]

Didn't marry me because of love, huh? [It was all a game! He sees now.] Have to work on that. I'll get you one day. When you least expect it. You'll love me if it's the last thing I do, Janet.

[Like on a random day months from now when April receives a slew of purple roses for no reason, yeah. It's gonna happen.]

My heart is a fortress-

[The drama is minimized with another yawn.]

Can't you just be happy being a human pillow? You never have to get out of bed again.

Hmmmmmmmmm...

[He pulls a face, this requires serious consideration. The most serious, really, this is a life-changing moment and must be treated as such.]

The human pillow position still gets used for more than sleeping on, right?

["you're gonna sit on my face a lot right"]

Please. Do you know what girls do to their pillows?

[Oh. If only those fluffy things could tell tales.]

I've heard stories. Just stories. [Whispered, like it's some sacred myth they're discussing. Need to put on the holy garments necessary to even talk about this.] What's the truth of your pillow habits? Is it easier to show than tell?

[ There is one last yawn. Just to get it out of the way. April isn't rude enough to yawn in the position she's moving to, one straddling Will with knees on either side of his hips. ]

You have to hold very, very still.

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