Creepy Is Subjective Mansion, Phoenix Way, Sunday Morning

[newroutines]

That had been some night. It was a small miracle that Mike was even waking up yet, although to be fair, he was doing so pretty sluggishly, face smushed against one of the many pillows and the rest of him sprawled all over. Sorry, Tamsin. He was used to having the bed all to himself lately.

But at least he had probably sufficiently proven that it was a really good and durable bed.

[ooc: For the valkyrie in question, and SP, please and thank you!]