[ there's still a few panels of sheet metal and some hinges on the floor near the living room windows - he might have been welding indoors, don't @ him. he certainly doesn't mind the thought of working on a project with ian, and there's a light, lazy smile on his lips while he watches him inspect the windows. ]

Yeah? Between her and Frank it's a miracle there's any house left. But hey, dysfunctional families make for good life skills, right? [ ~the silver lining~. at least their shitty lives taught them some stuff. ] First time I used it blowtorch it was knocking locks off storage pods Terry wanted to rob. I was seven.

[ said with a snorted laugh, because only strikes him as comical. they're fucked up people from a fucked up place full of other fucked up people. but hey, at least they got all the Good At Sex genes, and speaking of which, mickey's brows arch and eyes brighten, pacing his way over to the door that leads to the attic level. and the three different locks that are bolting it. because mickey's just like that. ]

Be my guest. [ said with a snarkily waved hand towards the stairs (of the bolts are all unlocked), like mickey would know hospitality if it slapped him on the ass. ] We got a basement too, but it's just laundry machines and tools down there.