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It was some absurd hour of the night and all Ambrosius wanted was a simple glass of water, but instead he had to deal with an intruder playing Knightendo on their living room couch.
"You have five seconds to leave quietly," he growled, grabbing an empty vase as a makeshift weapon.
The boy turned around. "Sorry, did I wake you up? I can turn the volume down some more."
The voice was slightly deeper than usual, but still recognizable.
Shit. In his sleep-fogged state, he'd forgotten about their new roommate.
"Nimona?"
"That's my name!" the boy confirmed with a chomp-chomp for emphasis.
The shark teeth were definitely recognizable, though Nimona was considerably taller and bulkier and more pimply than usual, with hair more ginger than pink.
"Even…now?" Ambrosius gestured at him — her? them? — with the vase. His auncle Vesper hadn't bothered with a name change, but he had a history of making bad assumptions about Nimona and would rather stop doing that. (If he could.)
He cocked his head. "Why wouldn't it be? I'm always me."
"Everything all right here?" Ballister emerged blearily from their bedroom.
Ambrosius wished he knew.
To his relief, Nimona answered affirmatively. "Yeah, we're good."