Who: Clay and Colby Quimby What: Time for some new ink... and a few other changes. Where: Around and about in London. When: Friday, August 1st; morning. Rating: Probably G? PG at the very highest.
His sister, Clay decided, had been hiding in her room long enough. He'd wallowed with her for a bit, sat through marathons of movies he hated admitting he didn't completely hate, and consumed more milkshakes than he really thought should have been humanly possible (but it had been totally worth the brain freeze). He'd hugged her while she cried, did his best to make her laugh until she cried from that, too, and let her set the pace for any conversations they had about the root of the problem. He might not have completely succeeded, but he'd tried to be what she needed, right then.
He'd given her time; it was time for something different. Dressed and ready for a day out, he leaned against her door and knocked, rapidfire and nonstop. "Colby..." He drew the last syllable of her name out, five knocks' worth. "You know you want to come see someone stick needles in me!" In his rush to get home, he'd delayed getting the tattoo he'd been planning for his return to civilization. He could delay it longer, if he really wanted to. This time, he was staying, after all. No need to rush, except that it really was a fantastic distraction. Besides, he really wanted to talk to his guy about his vague concept for a Young Avengers tattoo, and he was fairly certain she'd want to have some input on that.
First, though, he had to irritate her enough that she'd at least open the door to tell him to go away. "Coooolby!"