A Homecoming of Sorts (Permission; T? M for language? Lord knows...)

It had yet to really be understood why it was that Evelyn, a two-going-on-three star meister that had already made eight Death Scythes and graduated still attended classes. She didn't really receive any grades, though she'd still do the work and occasionally switch out her role of student for that of teacher's aid, but nonetheless, if she was in Death City then she was at the DWMA. This particular day had her reviewing notes she'd recopied a thousand times regarding meister-weapon pairings and what made them work. From the corner of her desk, her phone's screen began to flash, soon erupting in Somebody Told Me, the only ringtone that could breakthrough her 'Do Not Disturb' setting. Immediately dropping her pencil, she took the phone, holding a finger to her lips as she waved at the teacher and nodded to the door. Once outside the room, she answered, grinning from ear to ear all the while. "Baylor! Been awhile since I've heard from you, kid." Despite the words, there was no scolding to her tone --- perhaps a twinge of hurt, but certainly no temper. "What's up?"

"I was tied up for a bit, in several senses of the word," Liam replied coolly, though his words flowed with a barely-contained cheerfulness that few could bring out of him in such a magnitude. He leaned back against an embroidered black suitcase, pulling his cloak tighter to him to stave off the cold atmosphere of the airport terminal. "I'm a tad ashamed to say I lost my satellite phone during the trip...and you know you can't trust basic cell reception to function in the Alps."

The weapon murmured incomprehensibly into the phone, rummaging through his jacket pocket as an attendant left his terminal, approaching him with a thin tube. Passing along a roll of cash and an appreciative nod, he tucked the carrier for his sword behind the suitcase and resumed his casual lean. "So I'm sure this is short notice, but would you be able to pick me up from the airport?"

"Right now?" She asked, tapping her foot as she thought, idling through her notes as she leaned against the wall, phone between her ear and shoulder. There wasn't any sort of indignation in her voice, though a fair bit of happy surprise was there. Mentally, she tacked off what it would take to have the previous satellite cell shut off and reactivate another.

"When it's convenient, of course," he insisted, shifting against the wall at her words. "That said, if you're expecting to be occupied for the evening, I may just shift into my weapon form and wait for some curious soul to throw the shiny new toy they found in their car." The laugh that followed was genuine, if hoarse. His journey abroad had hosted numerous hardships and humor was a luxury he could rarely afford. The weapon straightened himself, shifting his shoulders back and clearing his throat, as though he were shaking the dust from it. "If you can...bring my car."

"As you wish, Baylor." She said, amusement apparent all the while, "You wanting to drive back? You're more than welcome to." Leaning back, she held the notes at her side, holding the phone like normal. It was a sincere relief to hear his voice once more, as it had been quite some time. They had a lot of catching up to do, especially with his travels. Besides, she still had to see if he had reached Death Scythe yet. "I'll go pack up and head out. It'll be a bit. Maybe an hour, tops? Think you can hold out? I can get food." A slow smirk appeared on her face, made evident in her voice. "Stir fry? I can bring shri~iiiiiiimp."

A small intake of breath caught in the weapon's throat as he thrust a hand forward, peering at the watch adorning his wrist. Forty-seven. Forty-seven seconds had passed in the call and she was already playing the ace in her hand, knowing the reaction that would ensue. Liam would follow Eve to the ends of the earth without hesitation; with stir-fry on hand, he would follow her to the moon as well. "Take your time," he exclaimed breathlessly, sweeping his hair back with a rogue laugh. "I'll grab a drink from the terminal shop, maybe browse their planes...we don't have one of those yet, do we?"

She snorted a laugh through her nose, shaking her head, "No, we really don't. I'm thinking a fighter jet. Maybe with one of those fancy bedrooms? I know mile-high-club isn't really up your alley, but those things are supposed to be comfortable as all hell." Another laugh followed and she shook her head, laughing at herself, "Pick up another post card for me, will you?" Evelyn glanced at her own watch, calculated in her head how long it would take her to have everything ready to go.

Liam pushed off from the wall, sauntering lazily towards the gift shop, eyes already flitting across the rows of candy and chips. "It's the airport, Evie. You and I have been picking through the same postcards in that terminal since we were kids." He paused mid-stride, eyes narrowing as he scanned a brochure stand that had been picked through. Running his fingers over the edges of the paper, he snatched a small advertisement for The Rose Garden, folding it neatly in half and stuffing it into his pocket. "I won't even offer a rebuttal to your statement about the mile-high club, lest I invite our friend, discomfort, to the party."

"You're the only one that gets uncomfortable over the topic," she shot back, tone between a tease and a temper. "We'll continue this conversation in the car though, shall we? I need to get my things out of the classroom and head your way." A slow smirk reappeared, her expression utterly mischievous, "Wouldn't want my little brother starving now, would I?"

"Then let's hope the stir-fry doesn't burn like the last time you cooked it," he teased, the taunt manifesting in his posture as he straightened up. The ordeal was equal parts his and Eve's fault, given that they had been arguing the merits of measuring ingredients versus "eyeballing" it instead of actually watching the skillet. Still, Evelyn took substantial pride in her cooking and it wouldn't hurt too much to poke fun at the affair. "I'll be at terminal C when you get here. I promise not to buy a plane...today."

"You wouldn't buy one from the 'port anyway," she shot back, rolling her eyes, "You and I both know that we'd customize the shit out of it, and your darling girlfriend and Rosie wouldn't rest until they'd designed the entire interior themselves." There was amusement, but a teasing tone of borderline disdain in the way she said the name; clearly, the two were not often ones to see eye-to-eye.

"I...don't trust Rose's design tastes," Liam admitted sheepishly, as though she would burst forth from behind the magazine stand and scold him. "Crystal has always possessed a better grasp of our tastes...in any case, it isn't their plane! Even if I do ask h..." The weapon's words trailed into the void, colour rising noticeably to his cheeks. "I'll just ah...I'll be waiting at the terminal."

"Ask her wha~aaaaaaaat?" Eve said, calling his embarrassment in not a heartbeat, "Awwww would little Liam wanna high club his wittle girlfran?" All sibling, and by effect, all teasing, she grinned, her voice seeming almost to contain a giggle in it.

Liam huffed loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers and rubbing it slowly. "Yeah, Evie, I don't think you're on the right track with this one...perhaps this particular topic will be better suited for when I see you." He rummaged through his wallet, tossing a handful of bills onto the counter and swiping a bag of chips from the counter, nodding quietly to the clerk. Peering outside, the weapon's smirk downturned slightly at the clouds coalescing overhead. "My car. Stir fry. Perhaps an umbrella...sound like a plan?"

She rolled her eyes, laughing softly all the while. "On it, Lee. See ya soon." there was the briefest pause. "Love ya, " the tone was teasing but also, more evidently, masking. Even to family, she didn't say the words often, never using them lightly, but it had been too long and she knew he'd been through too much. Call it intuition or a "twin thing" --- she didn't care --- but she somehow just... Knew.

She rolled her eyes,  laughing softly all the while.  "On it,  Lee. See ya soon." there was the briefest pause.  "Love ya, " the tone was teasing but also, more evidently,  masking.  Even to family,  she didn't say the words often,  never using them lightly,  but it had been too long and she knew he'd been through too much.  Call it intuition or a "twin thing" --- she didn't care --- but she somehow just...  Knew.

Silence clung to him like a disease, punctuated by the crackle of static and unsteady breathing. "Love you too," he murmured, the words rubbing the lump in his throat as they escaped trembling lips. He let the phone fall away, thumb punching the end call as he fell against the wall, sliding to the floor. For nearly a year, he had traveled through the French countrysides, tracking and squashing an infestation of cultists before they could deal any lasting damage. Few knew why he had left and no one knew that he had been way over his head. His first life taken came with a spray of blood and a second look at his breakfast; the 81st life came easily. France had hardened his skin and steadied his blade, but the isolation had left him vulnerable to the love he had left at home. Eve had unwound him and she likely knew it. Snap out of it, Liam. You knew the homecoming would be difficult...and we sure as sin don't need to give Evie ammunition to tease us with.

Evelyn did all that she could to minimize the amount of time that it took to get from Point A to Point B, shuffling all of her things into her backpack and dismissing herself from the room entirely. Silent questions were asked as to what she was doing or where she was going, but anyone that really knew her, or at the very least had known her for over a year, knew precisely what that ringtone meant. Liam was one of the few people that had a customized ringtone, and was the only one whose number could break through her "Do Not Disturb" setting.

Making her way from the school to the house, she quickly dropped off her school bag, grabbing her brother's keys from the hook and placing her own where they belonged, she set about making a list of what she needed to get for the meal. This done, she left the house not ten minutes after she arrived, heading straight for the airport with her phone plugged in with Liam's aux cable. Letting it cycle through their one shared playlist, she pulled up to the airport pick-up lanes not forty-five minutes after getting off the phone. Smiling softly, keeping her cool everywhere but in the deepest recesses of her eyes, she stepped from the vehicle, keys in hand, leaning against the driver's side with her phone still playing in the center console.

Liam disengaged from the elderly woman he had been chatting idly with, bidding her a quiet farewell as he moved for the terminal lobby, luggage in tow. Public courtesy prevented him from dragging his suitcase down the escalator, his foot clicking impatiently against the grooved metal as it descended. Impatient feet carried him around tourist and TSA alike, hastily passing through the double doors to beat his si-

"Evelyn," Liam murmured breathlessly, as though the sudden sight of his sister had emptied his lungs of what air remained within. She was resting against the Bentley with a deceptive ease, a smile on her lips that masked a competitive satisfaction over her beating him to the pickup lane. His hand slacked against the suitcase handle as the weapon ran unabashedly towards his sibling as quickly as his legs would carry him. "EEEEEVVVIIEEE!"

She released a laugh, unrestrained, pocketing the keys and opening her arms as she pushed off from the car. To hell with her pride; her damned little brother was home, and damnit, she was getting a hug or he was washing her tires. With a toothbrush.

Liam met her head-on, arms wrapping about her with desperate enthusiasm as he lifted her easily off of the pavement. The shift of weight sent the pair staggering back, putting the weapon's back against the car as he lowered his twin, laughing. Leaning in, he brushed her hair from her face, planting a quick peck of his lips on her forehead. "Gods, Evie...you've changed your hair again."

"You're surprised?" She asked, though, admittedly, it was pastel blue when he had left, still, the giggles had yet to fully die down, and she shrugged, gesturing towards his general person. "And you've... what?" The meister asked, hinting at his lack of change, "Not even met Death Scythe, I bet. Did you even try a new color? A new food?"

"I wasn't much of one for the meet-and-greets," Liam admitted, raking a hand through his hair bashfully. "The one person I spent any considerable amount of time with was a sorcerer. Color was negligible, unless you're counting the gray hairs I'm sure to have acquired. And ah...escargot. It was easier to deal with once I started addressing them as 'land oysters.'"

She snorted, an unladylike sound that she really didn't care heads or tails about. "Snails?" She teased, taking note of the fact that he had not addressed his weapon status. "Well, shrimp is meatier, anyway." A wink followed, and she held the keys out, dangling them in front of him. "Grocery sound good to you?"

"Grocery sounds just fine," he agreed, snatching the keys from her hand as he wheeled to collect his luggage from the sidewalk he had left it on. Depositing it in the trunk, he slid easily into the driver's side seat. Tentative hands ran over the leather wheel grip, letting the familiarity sink into his bones. Turning the ignition, he shifted the gear into drive, pulling away from the airport without a second glance. "I'm never quite sure where to begin when catching up," the weapon admitted, one hand tapping restlessly against his leg.