You hear a weird scuttling on your rooftop in the middle of the night but it doesn’t sound like any rodent or noise you can easily identify. Whatever it is sounds like it’s doing a lot of movement—and is sizeable enough to give you decent concern. Is it an animal? A robber? If you listen closely you can hear strange chattering and an odd whisper; it feels like eyes are watching you, but you can’t see anything. The noise doesn’t last for long; whatever is on your roof is moving—but, if you are brave enough to check outside you might be sorely disappointed to find that you can’t see anything but shadows. Either way, there’s something out there…and it’s not safe to stay out for long.
Sleep never came easy. That was the tag line for every survivor Mordred felt like. Sure, everyone was different, sure, everyone had their own unique special snow flake way of what and how they dreamed but really the end result was just the same. Sleep was difficult to find and it wasn’t always just because of past lingering traumas or current depression or regular anxieties about the future. No, it could just have been simple things like the sound of something irregular that broke the silence of the night. Or, it was a sudden dream evoking a feeling that would startle you awak. Dreams about falling were far more common than people realized one study showed. But for her, sleep was hard that night because she was certain something was prowling and it was not in fact her cat did because for one thing Arthur did not go on the roof and stomp his tiny cat feet like he was some kind of gangly thing that had a body weight of an average house pet.
Nah, if her cat dad decided he’d go to the roof he usually told her as so she’d not mistake it for anything and go out in her full gear to attack whoever might be there. And also risk being seen coming out of her window in her full super suit as he put it. It was always better to henshin out of the home.
Tonight’s issue. Sleep. Cause? Noise violation. Perp? Mystery. Mordred just wanted to rest, let her rest did she need to yell at the ceiling to get whatever made that noise to stop because she would. She was tired and had to get up early tomorrow and actually do normal person things. Like buy food. Do laundry. Convince Arthur that yet they totally needed an overly large fake corpse for Halloween decoration. (She was determined to get him to buy it). It sounded like a large rat and for a while she debated calling Arthur to take care of it. But then the weird sounds got weirder. Just the kind of s**t she needed. Hell rats. It would be her luck. Youma rats- fitting a thing probably to exist given the negaverse was made up of scum and rats and bitches and other not so pleasing things. Looking at her ceiling as she lie in bed, Mordred wondered if cat dad would let her set up some kind of traps for people who decided to use their roof as a landing pad. Rat youma, or otherwise. Which would include stupidly rude senshi with no sense that someone might be trying to sleep under the very roof they were jumping on.
Mordred sighed to herself when she realized no, Arthur would tell her that was rude and dangerous and also not very nice and didn’t she want to be nice and make friends? (She had plenty she said, him and Icarus. Besides with a broken leg she wasn’t going anywhere out with people anyway). Stuck with sounds, she glared at the ceiling.
God this was the worst.
