The moment that Bonnie wrapped her arms around him, Liam tensed for a second, expecting to feel all the weird sort of sensations that would go along with the strange ebb and flow of color and texture fluctuations he was seeing. When she felt normal and not freaky, he relaxed, a soft sort of sound coming out of him at being comforted. There were times when he was every inch the fledgling adult he claimed to be -- and other times? Other times, Liam was the young kid who's parents were gone and older brother had walked out. That was the part he regressed into, and he did exactly like his sister told him to: he took deep breaths of air, his throat still ragged and rattling like he hadn't quite caught his breath. The screaming hadn't helped, either, but at least he was safe. Even if the colors and shapes and weird three dimensional pop-outs made him slightly sick to his stomach. Bonnie's hair, for instance, was the color and consistency of purple-chewed up bubble gum, like a candy version of Medusa. "Woah. Bubble gum snakes. I bet bed-head is a real hassle..." he murmured, his brow furrowing as he looked at Bonnie's hair.
Ryan's quip about 'Jesus Titty Christ' made Liam giggle. Not a laugh, or a sound resembling anything masculine, but a full-blown, up in the high-register sound giggle. On the heels of the giggle, Liam's eyes flew wide as Ryan's head inflated, making him look like he had a balloon for a face. It was disturbing, and right around the time that Ryan was saying something soothing, the air of his words looked like actual word-bubbles, only they slithered down Ryan's chin and neck like pieces of tissue paper. Weird. "Can you even make papier-mâché with spit?" Because like hell was Liam able to keep that to himself. "I mean, I guess if your spit's kinda viscous or sticky. Gross." His eyes narrowed at Ryan as he looked at him. The movement that his brother made to take his sweater off had Liam struggling to pull away, to shield himself from the razor-bladed material. "JESUS FUCK, YOU'RE GONNA STAB SOMEONE WITH THAT SHIT!" He screamed, burying his face bodily behind Bonnie. On the heels of that, Liam realized that Ryan was telling him to breathe and close his eyes. "No sweater death while my eyes are closed, okay?" His voice was plaintive and pleading, like he was still convinced that somehow the textures were real, even though Bonnie didn't feel strange at all.
Eyes squeezed shut as he lay there and took deep breaths, Liam felt like that definitely did help. What he was seeing at least. He still felt dizzy as fuck which was not helping him as he couldn't see to orient his vision. As the blackness swam underneath his eyelids, he felt a little like he had the spins, like when you drank one too many and your body couldn't process the alcohol fast enough. "Great. Acid trip AND drunken spins," he groaned. "So uhm, Bonfire...I love you. But I think I would love you more if you didn't get throw up on you. And I don't know how much longer I can--- OKAY DEFCON FOUR!" Liam sloppily rolled blindly away from his sister's hold and threw up all over whatever it was he managed to put his head near in his room.