Goood Morning Avalon!

[Sora-No]

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    "Okay, nice, lemme lead you two along."

    Mike couldn't really explain it, but he was almost... uneasy. Nervousness and anxiety isn't really something he deals with often. Maybe that warm feeling on the tips of your ears when asking someone out, that little pit in your stomach when asking for a dance. Or that instantly dry mouth when they ask something a bit too close to home.

    But he hasn't had it this consistently. Usually, it was a quick and done process. With the first two, you get a yes or a no, the latter of which you might ask again, in which case- yet another yes or no. The last one happens so rarely to him he's only had to deal with a few times. And that gets replaced with... different feelings. Every step through town, he felt almost dread as he went to see what's been handled in the past month. Or, in this case, not handled.

    He would arrive at the door, his hands making a key of light, sticking it in to the lock before turning it, opening the door and letting the other two in. Well, good news is they didn't change the locks, at least. That means he's not kicked out yet. He'd take a couple of steps, turning back at Soren and Rease and letting them make themselves at home. They should only be here for a moment.

    The apartment was pretty... plain. The living room had basically nothing in it, a futon on the left wall, the kitchen visible to the right. Hardwood floors matching between the two, only a singular island truly separating the two. A bedroom door can be seen across from the front door, the door fully closed. Along the wall of the living room was assorted musical instrument cases.

    And there were a lot of them. Lining basically the entire wall, with amps found directly next to the futon. Wires wrapped in unfashionably neat format on top of them, a box of picks and multiple musical accessories were on a night-stand on the other side of the futon. Mike would head over to this first, walking backwards as he addressed the other two.

    "Soren, you can leave the fruit basket on the counter, I'll put it in the fridge as needed when I get back. Sink should still be working, so if you wanna put some water in a glass you can put the flowers in there for the time being." He'd crouch over the first case, wiping a small layer of dust off of it, speaking without looking at the two, "I don't really have any perishables in the fridge, mostly drinks and soda, if any of you want some. Shouldn't be flat since they haven't been opened yet." His concentration was still completely on the cases.

    He'd open the first one, a blue metallic finished electric guitar fitted inside. Eight stringed and with only a single blemish in the form of a small sticker on the fender, the word "MAV" written in an artistic font. Mike would look it over, lifting it effortlessly, checking it over for any marks or blemishes. With the way he was acting, it was as if he didn't even care about everything else in the apartment at this point.

    He would nod, putting it back in the case, closing it with a click before putting it back against the wall. Moving to the second, he'd noticed a wet wipe across the dust- as if someone cleaned these recently- Mike would turn, confusion on his face as he looked over the other ones. Hmm. That's definitely odd.

[Sparky]

    As if to answer the hidden question of "Who dares to clean my house while I was gone," A note just happened to be placed oh so obviously on one of Mike's counters. Familiar handwriting, big words, and a small little angry face. 

"Mike,

    looked after your place while you were gone. Don't ask how I got in. Hope you're not dead. 

    -Luke"

   
    The note was short, sweet, and to the point. Seems that the dark-haired punk showed enough care towards Mike that he went ahead and kept his place from collecting dust. All dishes were cleaned and put away. Floor cleaned, bed made, clothes sorted. Only things that weren't really touched were the instruments themselves, save for a light dusting. Dude knew well enough not to fuck with another man's instruments. The headphones Luke made for Mike were set down right beside the note, with a slip that said "Pulled from the hospital"

    Rease waited outside for Soren and Mike to finish their shenanigans, letting out a yawn as he did so. It was nice to be invited in, but they were only really acquaintances right now. Guy wasn't going to just waltz into the home of a kid he didn't really know.

[Soren]

Soren looked over at Mike. He held a focus Soren had never seen in him before but knew that expression all too well. The birdman was glad that at least of all of Mike’s things, it seemed the most important ones were pristine. He grabbed the basket and walked to the kitchen, placing it on the counter and preparing to take the bouquet out before seeing the note.

“Ah, Luke was here.” He lifted the note to show Mike how he found out, regardless if he looked or not. He set the slip of paper back down and then turned around to look for a cup large enough to not spill a bouquet of flowers. “Do you have a vase or a pot or something?” He didn’t want to dig through the boy’s cupboards, that felt a bit rude. Though, Soren will need a bit of a hand trying to find something whenever Mike is done checking his place over.

[Sora-No]

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    Mike would give a glance at Soren, focusing back on the cases. Eh, if it's Luke, he probably didn't fuck with it, Mike would think, getting up and shrugging, walking over to Soren in the kitchen area. He'd open a cabinet under the sink, pulling a mediocre-looking vase out and turning the water on, letting it fill up. There were a couple blemishes and things, with some symbols and letters etched into it. Once filled adequately, he'd place it on the counter, letting Soren place the water in.

    "Here." He'd lean on the counter across from Soren, his hands going in to his pocket, "Sorry for freaking you out, by the way. Definitely not something you expected to hear. 'hey, your resident redheaded dumbass almost got gotted'" Mike would give a laugh, opening the adjacent cabinet, grabbing a granola bar. These don't expire, right? Well, he'll find out in about an hour or so.

    Mike would quickly change the subject, taking a bite and chewing before speaking again, "How's training with Lyndon, by the way? Lady what's-her-name still unintentionally giving death glares? Still got the fan club watching y'all duke it out?" The people there seem genuinely nice, for the most part. And Lyndon sounds like a fun one to spar with. Mike'll just have to get back in shape and such... fuck.

[Soren]

“Thanks.”, Soren said as he carefully put the flowers into the vase. He seemed to be watching the stems, making sure they went into the vase. There was also watching the water level and hoping Mike didn’t overfill the vase so that water spilled over when all the flowers were put in. Of course, he wasn’t expecting these flowers to really last more than a week in the vase alone, but that was just simply how things went. The flowers themselves still seemed lively at the moment, so they would sit pretty for the time being. After the vase was filled with the whole bouquet, Soren would gently push the vase a bit on the countertop to a spot that would be less in the way but still easy to look at.

“The important thing is that you’re okay.”, Soren said, giving a shrug. Well, based on how hard Mike was hit, the other important thing was that he was breathing and able to walk after some run-in like he had. His taloned fingers tapped on the countertop idly as Mike spoke. “Training’s going great. And the lady just seems to have a natural cold gaze, but she’s actually pretty nice.” He leaned on the countertop slightly. “We’ve been training on a regular schedule to the point where they actually set aside a time to take a break from choring to spectate.” It was a little embarrassing, it felt like a training arena with a crowd. But it was also kind of nice that there was such an interest and feedback to come with based on Soren’s advancing and the general drooling fanclub over seeing their favourite butler dog man flex those dog man muscles.

[Sora-No]

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    Mike would go silent, his finger tapping on the counter top lightly. Hmm. Maybe it was just a Soren thing. He's talked to him, what, two times now? Was he that impressionable that he made someone he barely knew be concerned for his safety? Gods, he remembered when the only thing people used to be concerned about with him was whether he kept up his end of the deal or got his job done. At least since he left home, anyways. Guess he's been going a bit too quick through towns.

    He would turn, walking back over to the other cases, opening the second as Soren talked, a chuckle leaving his mouth as the bird man recounted his training so far, "I see. Not too long before you get yourself a little fan club like Lyndon, huh?" He'd pull out a bass, a matte black, painter's tape with the same "MAV" written on it, though much less artistically, "I give it a month, maybe two, you'll have the people arguing over who's gonna win as the fight's going-" Mike would give an over-exaggerated motion, his hands going up, "-the gasps, the cheers."

    He'd click the second case closed. These two seem to be the only ones that were recently at least interacted with. The dust on them were wiped off once or twice, but the others seem mostly untouched. He'd make a mental note when he made it back home after this to check it all out. Maybe try to play one or two if he remembers.

    He'd fully stand, stretching before turning on his heel, "Okay, if I do not eat something I'm going to become a cannibal against my will," He'd pause, his hand on his chin, "Actually, most of my recipes actually don't have a specified red meat..." It is hard to tell whether Mike is joking here. While he is joking, his stomach is slowly churning and is about to make the spacial theory of black holes look like a laughing stock in comparison to the endless pit it'll become.

[Soren]

“Oh I wouldn’t know about that.”, Soren said, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. He was a bit visually attractive, sure, but he felt like he was a fairly average dude otherwise. No way he’d get anywhere to Lyndon’s level at pretty much everything. At least, that’s what he thought. Of course, there would be people that would tell him otherwise, but those people would be Lyndon, and maybe Mike and Luke.

Soren seemed to fixate his attention on the bouquet, moving a stem here and touching up a flower there. Wanted it to look the best it could. He glanced at Mike after hearing the cannibalism comment. Well, Soren probably looked like a real good set of the spiciest wild wings and turkey thighs this side of Avalon if Mike was serious. He doubted that was the case though. “So you’re ready for lunch then?”, he asked, leaning away from the vase. Soren figured the bouquet was fine for the time being, else he would fuss over where the flowers were placed for who knows how long.