fandomtownies | MHA, Saturday afternoon

Steven had a map. Which was good. Meant he knew where he was, which was a nice change of pace. Sure this building was fairly easy to find, next to the causeway and all, but still. Never knew when things would go pear shaped and make it hard to know where and when you were. Every little bit helped.

Steven folded the map up and put it away in his bag. He took in the view. The building seemed all right, at least.

HMMM, a rumbling voice interrupted Steven's brief moment of quiet.

Steven looked up and over his shoulder. Yep. There was Konshu, looking at the building much as Steven had been. Though more intensely, almost as though the old bird wasn't looking at the building so much as at something inside. "You here? Don't suppose you're offering to help with the move? Lift boxes and all that?"

Konshu didn't even turn his head in Steven's direction. TELL MARC THE ISLAND MIGHT NOT BE AS DULL AS I ASSUMED.

Oh for - Steven rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'll pass him a note in the halls, shall I? You do remember you have to deal with me as well, right?"

Too late, Konshu had already vanished. Well not like Steven would ever complain about the dusty pigeon buggering off. He could do that permanently as far as Steven was concerned.

Right. Too much time wasted on an Egyptian god's nonsense. Steven headed into the building and looked around for someone who might be in charge. "Hello?"

"Hello," Jon called back, checking the vending machines one last time and heading for the door. Huh; a new face. "Can I...That is, I haven't seen you here before."

Oh good, a person. Or at least someone who looked human which was a step ahead of Steven's new boss at the museum. Even better, his accent sounded familiar.

Steven gave a wave as he came forward. "Hello. Yes. Just arrived on the island. I mean arrived today, that is. Sorry, are you British?"

"Bournemouth by way of London," Jon agreed. He waved back, incidentally showing off the scar that was the reason he rarely shook hands anymore. "Welcome to Fandom, then. You're British as well, I take it."

Not always a safe assumption, with all the similar accents around here, but since he'd asked.

Steven had turned the wave into a gesture for a handshake. Spotting the scar he tried, unsuccessfully, to act as though he'd been intending to wipe a piece of lint off the front of his shirt the whole time. "Right. Yes. I'm just in from London. I'm moving here to the island with, ah, with my brother. Sorry, I'm Steven, by the way. Steven Grant."

Jon barely caught the misstep, and he appreciated it anyway, so he wasn't going to call attention to it. Something in the way Steven said "brother" sounded off, but...well, whatever, Jon wasn't going to judge.

"Jonathan Sims," he introduced himself. "Call me Jon. I assume there's something I can help you with, then."

"Jon," Steven said, giving a nod to show he'd heard it. Using the names people asked you to use was important. "Yes. Looking for a flat, actually. I'd heard there might be some available here?"

"There are," Jon agreed. "Hold on, I'll get the keys. If you're living with your brother, I assume you'll want a two-bedroom, but I also have singles available."

Steven's expression brightened. "Yes! Two bedroom, please, if they're available."

In the back of his mind, Steven heard Marc sigh. We don't need two bedrooms.

"We absolutely need two bedrooms," Steven said, firmly. He liked to think that this made him sound like some sort of expert real estate... acquirer and not like someone having an argument with a man who lived in his head.

"Right." Sorry, Steven; you sounded like a man who was living with his lover and had dealt with terrible homophobia in the past. But Jon could appreciate that, so he wouldn't pry.

"I've got fifth, sixth, or seventh floor," Jon noted as he went into his own flat, leaving the door open. "They're...well, they're new. You'll be the only one up there so far. I'm curious if you have a preference."

Steven stood by the door. He didn't want to assume an open door meant an invitation, especially given all the boundaries he needed to have in his own life. "Ah, good question. Hadn't thought of it. I suppose somewhere we might not bother anybody? He and I keep odd hours, guess you could say. Better if we don't wake anybody up if we come home late or there's... unusual bumps or shouting."

Edited 2022-05-15 01:19 (UTC)

Not disabusing Jon of the "secret lovers" assumption, Steven.

"All three floors are empty," he said with a shrug. "I suppose five will be easiest, then. No need to climb more stairs than necessary. Although we do have an elevator. It's just...well, in case. It hasn't gone out yet, but you never know."

Out of the corner of his eye Steven saw Marc in the reflection off the vending machine. For the life of him Steven couldn't imagine why Marc was facepalming with both hands.

"What are you - " Steven started to ask when Jon spoke again. Steven quickly pretended he hadn't been doing anything. "What? Ah, yes. Lifts. Strange things can definitely happen in lifts. Got stuck with my back up against a wall in one, one time. Though that was Marc's fault more than the lift's."

"Yes, um. Well." Still not disabusing him of the notion, Steven. "Let's...let's head up, then." Your sex life was none of his business.

He led the way back over to the lift ~~I'm usually good about that! silly Brits~~ and pressed the button.

Right. Awkwardness. Steven knew awkwardness when he saw it. Unfortunately he wasn't the best at diffusing it. "I mean it wasn't Marc exactly. More like... there's this absolute twat in his life who refuses to let him go. Thinks just because Marc pledged to spend his life with him he gets to keep Marc forever. Bit of a mess when he and I met for the first time, you know what I mean?"

Somewhere out there Konshu would've been facepalming. Instead Konshu persisted in the smug satisfaction of knowing it was a wise decision to pay as little attention to Steven Grant as possible.

"Yes, I, um. I can relate to that." Only in his case it was a Fear god and it had been unintentional. Totally not the same.

The lift came and Jon led the way. "So, the flats aren't furnished, but there's an Ikea on an island not far from here. Or online shopping, of course. If you get it delivered, you don't have to worry about getting it here."

Jon had been politely described as "scrawny". He was very glad his flat had come furnished.

"Yeah heavy work's going to be all Marc," Steven said. He looked around as they walked, getting a feel for the place. "He's the one who spends all his time lifting weights and eating protein and whatever."

Marc glared at him from a doorknob as they walked past. I do not spend all my time - forget it. Ask about the fish.

"Right!" Steven shot Marc a grateful look. To Jon, he asked, "Is there a pet policy? Like would having a fish be all right?"

"I don't see why it wouldn't be," Jon answered. "We've got people with cats and dogs, but unless your fish gets out and takes a walk, it should be fine."

He wasn't ruling anything out, okay? He didn't know which Earth you and your weightlifting boyfriend might be from, and this was Fandom.

"Oh, and, um. It's currently 2022 here. I'm not sure when it is in your London."

That hit Steven like a kick in the gut. In fact, there he was, leaning against the wall and clutching his stomach. "What? 2022? No no no no no, that's not right."

Marc was there, looking Steven in the eyes from his reflection. Steven? Breathe. It's okay. I can tag in if you need me but first I need you to be okay.

"I don't lose - " years was what Steven had been about to say, but then the math caught up with him. The panic for himself was replaced with a tendril of sickeningly hopeful pity for Jon. "Wait - no. You don't know, do you? You must've just come back. It's been five years, mate. Everyone left but then they came back. Or - I mean a lot of them came back. Sort of a blip. Poof."

"What do- no, erm, I'm not sure what you're talking about. Fandom is...is different? Than a lot of other places. It's all right; I-I've got a student from the 1950s, and there are people here from the future, and... look, it was, um. 2018 or 2019 when I came here, so I, um, I lost a couple years as well, but it's not a problem."

Jon cast desperately about for something reassuring. "It's probably the same time it was in your own...in your world. Just not here. If that makes sense."

"You lost as well - " Steven said, slowly, as he tried to wrap his mind around it. He looked towards Marc for reassurance.

Marc shrugged. I dunno. I mean all the shit we've been through? We are crazy but this sounds like the weird crap we've been dealing with all along.

"Like the hospital," Steven said, agreeing with Marc but also reminding himself as well. He looked towards Jon. "Sorry is - is the island sort of like... a between point? A place where things can manifest in strange ways? We'd heard this was a place for people with, ah, different kinds of lives but before we got here it was a little shy on the details. The bird who works at the museum for example. The, ah, actual bird. The owl."

Edited 2022-05-15 03:07 (UTC)

"I...maybe?" Jon said. "I haven't heard it described that way before, but there are people from all sorts of different worlds and universes here. I, um. I haven't met the bird at the museum yet. But the dean at the school is from...well, outer space or something. And the...man? being? who runs the animal shelter is a sort of...of giant shark."

He opened the apartment and let them in.

All right giant shark was more Steven's speed. Which proved Marc's point about them, really. But the idea of the intersection of different worlds and universes and things which sounded like they came out of mythology, well that was practically Steven's happy place.

The panic he'd been feeling receded as he pondered the implications of this. He followed Jon into the flat, now sounding excited as he talked. "Shark? That's not Egyptian. Bird's not either. Owl. I'm guessing Greek? His name's Blathers. Very nice. Not - not a huge fan of bugs though. Learned that the hard way. Tried bonding over scarabs. Nearly failed the interview."

"Oh. Don't, um. I thought owls ate bugs." Jon frowned. "Sidon - he's the shark - he's from an entirely different world, so no Egyptians or Greeks or anything. I don't actually know about Blathers."

"You should come by the museum then." Steven squared his shoulders proudly. "I work there now. Could give you the tour. 'course I've still got to learn it. I'm more of an expert in Egyptian things. But it's a nice museum! Good displays. Nice, ah, lighting."

At this point even Steven knew he was babbling. He pointed in a random direction. "So that's one of the bedrooms then?"

"Yes." Jon nodded, unfazed by the babbling. "The other is just down that hall. It's got a walk-in closet and a separate door to the washroom. There's, erm. The floorplan calls that," he pointed toward it, "the 'Kitchen of Doom'. I'm...I'm not entirely certain why. It seems fine to me, and nobody's had any problems with theirs yet. That I know of."

So far it all sounded great but Steven did have to check. "Like... that kitchen specifically? Do the other kitchens have doom? Because it doesn't have to be the fifth floor if the rest are more like kitchens of joy or something."

Also we only need one bedroom, Marc told Steven.

"We are definitely getting two bedrooms though," Steven said, because he hadn't budged on this point since he and Marc had started talking about the move and he wasn't about to stop now. "Non-negotiable."

"Right. Definitely two bedrooms." Honestly, not his business, Steven, and he wasn't judging.

"All of the two-bedrooms have Kitchens of Doom," he answered. "I really don't know why, sorry. The, um. Some of the one-bedrooms have Bedrooms of Happy." He really didn't need to know about that one. "As far as I can tell, they're all perfectly normal, too."

"Bedroom of Happy?" Steven was checking out the bathroom at this point, which made it easy for him to give Marc a pointed look in the mirror above the sink. "Sounds like just the thing."

Yes! Marc replied. Because it's one bedroom! Steven, we don't need two. We have one body, we sleep in one bed. I don't need the space. I'm not even going to use it for anything. I don't get why you keep insisting -

Steven turned his back on Marc and addressed Jon again. "Jon, you seem like an intelligent sort of man. Wouldn't you agree that if someone was starting a new life he should have space of his own no matter where he sleeps? Like a place all his where he can put his things any way he likes and, I dunno, come up with hobbies and things he enjoys doing? Something that's more of a life than living out of a suitcase in a storage locker?"

Edited 2022-05-15 04:46 (UTC)

"I, erm." Jon tried not to look too much like a deer in headlights. Look, he'd lived at work metaphorically and then literally; he was not the person to ask about this!

"Yes?" That seemed to be the answer Steven was going for. It also sounded like an old argument. Maybe the two-bedroom insistence wasn't entirely about hiding. "I, um. I-I think it's good, to have a place of your own."

"Thank you," Steven said, pleased as though Jon had given him enthusiastic agreement. "See? Coming here was a great plan. New job, new home, new friends already. Not even a full day in. We'll take the flat by the way. Can we move in right away or...?"

"Sure, yes, if you like." Jon nodded. "I've got, I think there's a wheely thing if you've got boxes. If you bring them around the corner from the causeway, you won't even need to hire a rickshaw."

He held out three keys. "I've only got one for the post, but I'm sure I can get another if you need it. Boxes are downstairs, next to laundry. You'll need a coin for laundry, but the boxes are open, so just take it back after. Oh, and there's a bank in town if you need to change pounds or euros for dollars." Was he forgetting anything?

Steven took the keys and held them in his hand. This was nice. Solid. Real. Also Jon hadn't indicated an issue with being called a friend so Steven was counting that very firmly in the win column. "Thank you. Still getting the hang of it. Trying to find all the right places. Where to eat and all that. Probably move in tomorrow. Do our best not to make a mess of things. Marc'll be taking care of that."

Steven? Take shameless advantage of how Marc was the one who actually worked on building muscle mass? Yes, yes he would.

Jon had mostly ignored the bit about being friends, since it couldn't possibly apply to him.

"Oh, there are plenty of restaurants here, and most of them deliver," he offered. "They actually have a tendency to overdeliver, so make sure you've got plenty of room for it. I'll keep an eye out for you both, and you can let me know if you want that trolley thing."

"Brilliant. Thank you." Steven started to go for a handshake before belatedly remembering not to do it. He changed it into an awkward wave instead.

Jon nodded back, a bit relieved at both the lack of handshake and at having successfully navigated a conversation with a new person without death threats or accidental compulsions.

"You're quite welcome. I'll leave you to look around, and I'll be downstairs whenever you want to fill out the paperwork. No rush."

MHA, Saturday afternoon

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