arboreal_priestess | Las Vegas, Thursday Evening (Reply)

Verity and Liam arrived in Vegas accompanied by the cheers of the Aeslin mice and the dulcet tones of Johnny Cash. Liam was glaring at the radio again, but, in fairness, he'd been doing that a lot recently. Liam's introduction to pop music was going...slowly.

To say the least.

They'd been on the road for pretty much the whole day, leaving the Price homestead before the sun rose. Verity still didn't know what strings her dad had pulled to have a rental car available to them the day after Christmas at oh-god-thirty in the morning; her best guess was that it was his way of apologizing for all the fighting and nagging they'd gone through during the rest of the holiday.

Liam had driven for the first few hours, and then Verity had taken over once she'd woken up again at a more civilized hour and had several cups of coffee to boot. There had been a few rest stops at weird tourist traps and now Liam could definitely say he'd seen both the biggest ball of yarn and a museum devoted to Big Foot as run by a family of yeti who were far too entertained by the whole notion.

But now it was past dinnertime and Las Vegas was in view...and yep. Liam was still glaring at the radio.

Liam	"Why would you shoot a man just to watch him die?" Liam demanded. "If you're shooting someone, it should be because you want that person dead. Shooting him just to see what happens is a waste of bullets and a decent opponent. It makes no sense," he complained.
Verity	"I can't tell whether you're messing with me right now, or whether the Resistance never allowed you to listen to popular music," Verity said, switching lanes to allow a convertible full of screaming college students to go blazing past. One of them was waving her bra around in the air. She was going to be sorry when it got caught on something and ripped out of her hands; that thing looked like it had probably been expensive. Then again, when kids that young were in a car that nice, it was a fair bet that someone else was paying the credit card bills.
Liam	Liam rolled his eyes at her. "I've heard plenty of music, thanks. I just don't see how shooting a man in Reno would be a good way to spend an afternoon, unless he did something to deserve it, in which case you're not shooting him just to see him die. You'd be shooting him to avenge your father, or restore your family honor, or whatever."
Verity	"Sorry," Verity said, giving him an apologetic smile. "I was snorting at that car that just passed us, not you. Even if you did just go all My name is Inigo Montoya right there."
Liam	"Inigo Montoya?" Liam echoed. "No, it's Liam Kincaid."
Verity	"Now I know you're just fucking with me," Verity said. "Because we've watched that movie like three times."
Liam	"Damn. You caught me," Liam said with a snicker.
Verity	"You're not cute, Kincaid," Verity said, punching his shoulder and laughing. She tilted her chin at the kids still joy-riding ahead of them. "I was just thinking it must be nice to be that carefree. I don't think I ever have been, you know? Except for maybe when I was dancing." Verity forgot everything when she danced. The world dropped away, and it was just her, the music, and whatever steps the choreographer had drilled into her thick skull. Responsibility was always there, though, waiting to crash back down on her the second the music stopped. None of her reprieves had ever been able to last. Fandom was the first and closest.
Liam	"At least you had that," Liam reminded her. "I think that's probably the biggest difference between us." Besides, you know, that third strand of DNA he had. "We both served something greater than ourselves from the day we were born. But you had your dancing, and parents who made sure that you had something more. I had, well..." his smile was tight and slightly bitter. She knew what he'd had. And strangely, that bitterness was a good thing: it meant that he'd started to accept that maybe he had deserved something more, in those early days of his life. And now? Now he had Fandom, and the life he'd built there, the connections he'd made.
Verity	Still the reminder made Verity feel guilty. At least she had had that. "And here I thought I felt bad for judging those kids for driving fast and having a good time." She sighed again. "I'm messing everything up recently."
Liam	"Hey," Liam said firmly, one hand sliding over to rest on Verity's thigh, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. His intention hadn't been to make her feel guilty. "Pretty sure that's my line."
Verity	Johnny Cash had long since been replaced by Taylor Swift, who was belting out a song about fairy tale romances and white horses and all the other Disney trappings of her early career. Verity leaned over and turned the radio off. The mice made a disappointed noise, but didn't argue. They had long since learned not to fight when their priestess decided that it was time for a little peace and quiet. Arguments always seemed to end with them being banished back to the trunk, where they couldn't hear the radio or whatever it was she and Liam happened to be talking about. Nothing was more dismaying to an Aeslin mouse than being cut off from their gods. (Well. Being eaten by a snake or something would presumably be more dismaying, and also more fatal. But on average, they were usually dismayed by being put in another room, not having cheese, not having cake, or all of the above. Sometimes Verity really envied the Aeslin mice and, oh god, she was babbling inside her own head.) "I guess I'm nervous."
Liam	"Can't imagine why," Liam said, his tone dry. "I am too," he admitted. Yes, they'd come to the conclusion that doing this now was the right choice, but coming up on the Las Vegas city limits, it was suddenly so much more nerve-wrackingly real. He glanced out the windshield at the city skyline ahead of them. "So here we are," he remarked. "You know, I've never actually approached the city from the ground before." The handful of times he'd been here, he'd either arrived by shuttle or had Portaled in to the station right on the Strip. He could spot the distinctive silhouettes of certain hotels, familiar-but-different from this perspective. And speaking of hotels... "Where are we staying, anyway?"
Verity	"A place called the Golden Oasis Hotel and Casino, actually," Verity said, taking her hand off the wheel to clasp his. She was going to have to pester him for details about his Vegas sometime and how the city looked, flying in. Hell. He had a shuttle. he didn't have to settle for just telling her. "It's about three blocks off the strip, you get free cable with your room, and almost no one has ever been murdered there, even when they probably deserved it."
Liam	Liam shot her a sidelong look as he tried to figure out whether or not she was kidding. Over the years, he'd gotten pretty good at picking up on when she was versus when she was being serious, but every so often she still managed to throw him for a loop.
Aeslin Mice	The mice started cheering again, and the head priest of Verity's splinter colony sealed the deal by beginning to sing the praises of the Golden Oasis. "Hail! Hail to the room service menu of wings and mozzarella sticks! Hail to the two hundred and thirty-seven channels! Oh, greatest of rejoicing, for this is the hotel of High-Wattage Exterior Lighting, attracting such delights from out the desert wastes! Hail!" "HAIL!" agreed the rest of the mice.
Verity	"Last time we were there, the lights attracted so many bugs that the bugs attracted a Gila monster," Verity said, giving Liam a smile that refused to hint either way about whether she had been teasing. She shifted over another lane; their exit was approaching. "The mice made like, thirty little mouse suitcases out of the thing. It was impressive. And gross. Impressively gross. Be glad you didn't know me yet."
Aeslin Mice	"We still possess the suitcases," squeaked a junior priest proudly. "If another mighty lizard presents itself, we shall make more."
Liam	"How nice for you," Liam said mildly. "There's no way we'd be able to get away with renting a separate room for the mice, is there?" he asked Verity. He loved the mice dearly, he really did, but they were going to be spending their wedding night in this hotel.
Verity	"Sadly, yes," Verity said. "We used to try it. But the maids would report the untouched room to the front desk in the morning, and we had an incident where they decided to double-dip, and rented the room the mice were in to a nice couple from Des Moines. I guess they figured they could get paid twice, and no one would know."
Aeslin Mice	"Truly, there was much screaming upon that day," said the mouse priest philosophically.
Liam	"I can understand why," Liam said, looking a little pained. Yes, he was accustomed to the mice by now, but he was also accustomed to them having their own room. (Which was not to say that they didn't still shamelessly barge into the bedroom when rites required they do so, but generally speaking, they understood what closed doors meant, and there was always the Sacred Law of Food for Privacy for when Liam and Verity really wanted to make sure they were left alone.)
Verity	Verity leaned over and squeezed his knee. "Our next stop after this place is pretty great," she promised. "We'll get our own rooms there and do the whole honeymoon thing then."
Liam	"Honestly?" Liam said, grinning back at her. "I don't actually care if we have a honeymoon or a five-minute break before the next horrific adventure begins and we're running for our lives again. I'm going to marry you. That's not actually something I ever thought I'd get to do."
Verity	"What, marry me?" Verity asked, giving him a sidelong naughty smile. "Honey, the writing was on the wall from the first time I stripped naked in front of you."
Liam	"When I turned all non-corporeal on you and that still didn't scare you away," Liam said, shaking his head fondly. He'd meant 'live long enough to marry anyone', and Verity knew as much, so he wasn't going to belabor the point there.
Verity	"And you're probably the first guy who ever took all my weird fuck-you-gravity stance in stride," Verity said. "I think we make a hell of a good pair." They took the turn into the Golden Oasis's parking lot and Verity left Liam to watch the mice and the SUV while she made the arrangements with the desk clerk. Calling ahead was never necessary at the Golden Oasis. With Yelp reviews ranging from unfavorable to downright cruel and rooms that made the Motel 6 on the Strip look classy, they hadn't lit the "No Vacancy" sign in the last decade. But while reservations might not have been necessary, sometimes it was still possible to get lucky. Verity came out fifteen minutes later, turning her face up toward the hot desert sun, and smiled. It definitely didn't feel like late December in Las Vegas. Then she sauntered over to where Liam was wrestling their suitcases out of the truck, putting a little extra sway in her step, and purred, "Who likes privacy?"
Liam	"Anyone who's not looking for an alibi," Liam pointed out, his tone somewhat wary. "Why?"
Verity	"That answer right there is why my whole family loves you," Verity said, gleeful. "Because while I can't rent two rooms with any reasonable expectation that the mice will be left alone, I was able to rent the only high-roller suite at the Golden Oasis, largely because they haven't had a high-roller since sometime in the mid-70s." Verity held up the not-so-coveted golden key with all the pride of an Olympic medalist. "Separate dining and sleeping areas in the same hotel room. The mice sleep in one, we celebrate our marriage in the other." From her expression, she had an idea of how that 'celebrating' should go.
Liam	"You are truly a genius of lodging," Liam declared, leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek. "Now let's get to that room before someone notices that our luggage is cheering."
Verity	Verity leaned back and beamed at him. "This is Vegas. If anyone hears it, they'll just assume it's the latest thing from Japan." She stepped away from and picked up her suitcase all the same. The case rewarded her with a fresh volley of cheering. There was no force in the world that could stop an Aeslin mouse from rejoicing when they felt the time was appropriate - and they always felt the time was appropriate. The high-roller suite of the Golden Oasis was up on the third floor of the hotel. Barely off the ground for most of the big hotels in Vegas, but the tippy-top of Verity and Liam's. Their golden key unlocked the door of a room that looked like it hadn't been redecorated in thirty years, from the cream shag carpet to the gaudy orange and red diamond pattern of the wallpaper. The bedroom wasn't much better; while the bed was enormous, the ceiling above it was mirrored, and there was a Jacuzzi tub surrounded by poorly-grouted tile in one corner. She blinked at it, nonplussed. "Well...okay then."
Liam	"There's also a shower in here," Liam reported with no small amount of relief as he finished inspecting the bathroom.
Verity	"Thank God," Verity muttered. She waded through the thick carpet to the couch, and there unzipped her suitcase. Mice came pouring out. "Okay, guys, ground rules for the new place. You may go hunting after dark, but try not to be seen. You may not visit the hotel kitchen. You may visit the casino. It's so dark in there that nobody's going to notice you. You may not go any further outside the hotel. Two of you will be allowed to come and witness our marriage. Work it out amongst yourselves. If my parents call the hotel," which was always a risk; the family generally stayed at the Golden Oasis when they passed through Vegas, and her folks knew, roughly, where she was supposed to be right now, "you may not tell them that we're getting married. That goes for email and text messages, too. Are there any questions?"
Aeslin Mice	There were no questions. Just cheering. "HAIL THE CASINO!!" That was a relief. Save for where Verity was pretty sure her mice had a gambling problem, but that was for worrying over later.
Verity	She turned to Liam. "Okay. I want to grab a shower and drag a brush through my hair. You should freshen up, but not too much. You want to look bad for your passport photo and you're already at a disadvantage there."
Liam	"... Thanks? I think?" Liam said. He'd kind of forgotten that a new passport would be part of the whole paperwork thing, but it made sense. His current (albeit also forged) passport contained more than your average number of stamps, some of which were for countries that didn't exist in Verity's reality.
Verity	"I did a search for 'Liam Kincaid' the other day," Verity said. "Enough different hits came up that it shouldn't be a problem adding one more. And it won't make the Covenant look twice if some random Price marries into that family." Unlike, say, a De Luca. When they got around to getting Dominic papers, he was probably going to have to lose his whole name.
Liam	"Guess I can't just take over someone's actual identity the way I did the first time around, yeah," Liam realized. "Wonder if that guy exists here too?" he mused. It seemed likely, given that there was a Verity Price back in his original reality.
Verity	"Depending on how Uncle Al sets it up, you just might be," Verity said with a shrug. "That's the surest way to do it, anyway." She gave him a sideways smile. "Life sure does move fast sometimes, huh?"
Liam	Yeah, except usually those people whose identities were... uhhh... repurposed, were dead. Unlike the guy Liam still thought of as 'the real Liam Kincaid'. "With you?" he grinned back at her. "Life moves like a roller coaster that's lost its brakes. We'll either careen off a cliff or have the craziest adventure imaginable, and I'm honestly not sure where we'll end up." There had been glimpses of possible futures, of course, but Liam knew better than to assume those would be set in stone.
Verity	"At least we're finding out together," Verity said, twining her fingers with his.
Liam	"Yeah," Liam beamed at her, affection and love flowing through their joined hands. "Yeah, we are."
Verity	His smile was enough to reassure her, one more time, that they were doing the right thing. "Yes." Verity looked over her shoulder. "Don't destroy anything while we're out," she called, to the seemingly empty room. "And if you do, try to make sure you don't get caught." A mouse cheered from behind the dresser. Verity hooked her arm through Liam's and led him out of their hotel room, back into the heat of the Las Vegas early evening.

***

Verity	They did not take the SUV. Walking in Vegas might suck - sure, December meant it wasn't hot enough to leave your desiccated corpse to mummify gently in the gutter, at least, but the streets were still crowded with tourists - and yet it was still better than rolling up to a pawn shop-slash-forgery depot in anything that could be traced. Besides, it was only a mile. They needed to stretch their legs after that drive. By the time they were halfway there, they no longer needed to stretch their legs. Verity ran a hand through her hair; it fell limply back to lie against her scalp, too dried out to even frizz. Ugh, she was probably going to need a deep conditioner to replace all the moisture that the desert air had stolen. "Not much farther?" Only, you know, the same amount of distance they had already traveled.
Liam	"Good," he sighed. "I'm absolutely not made for this weather." The damp cold of a Pacific Northwest winter was one thing, but this...it wasn't cold, but it didn't have the decency to be warm either, and there wasn't a drop of moisture to be found in the air.
Verity	He sounded so petulant that it was all Verity could do not to laugh at him. Instead, she patted his arm and said, "We could be back home where it rains most of the time and people move away because they don't want to get moldy. Your beloved leather duster would be the very height of pretentious fashion. Hipsters might follow you down the street, cooing and asking where you got it." The desert air brought out extra levels of brat in Verity, shh. Right about when she'd decided they were taking a taxi back to the Golden Oasis, they turned a corner and found themselves facing Big Al's Pawn Shop, Slots, and Notary Services. Verity relaxed a little. "We're here."
Liam	Liam raised an eyebrow as he eyed the pawn shop. During his Resistance days, he'd held meetings in all manner of locations, so he knew better than to take something like this at face value. Still... "Is 'here' strictly sanitary?" he couldn't help but ask.
Verity	"Nope." Verity started for the door. "Not sanitary, not safe, and totally awesome." The front window was full of knives, some practical, some so ornate that they wouldn't be appropriate anywhere outside of a science fiction convention. A few of them would definitely be accompanying her back to the hotel. She could call it a wedding present to herself, and besides, it wasn't like it was possible to have too many knives.
Liam	Liam followed her gaze and shook his head fondly before pushing open the pawn shop door. A small bell rang somewhere in the blessedly air-conditioned gloom. There were no other customers. There weren't even visible staffers; the space behind the counter was empty of clerk, although it was packed full of shoeboxes and mannequins and leaning sports equipment. Someone had even pawned what looked like a full-sized horseman's glaive, and don't think Liam didn't see your fingers twitching with acquisitive lust there, Verity. The rest of the shop was equally cluttered, packed with statuary, old appliances, racks of fur coats and leather jackets, and anything else that could reasonably be expected to pawn for a decent price. Some of the things were new, recent arrivals, their owners no doubt still in Vegas, pumping quarters into a one-armed bandit and trusting their fortunes to turn around at any moment. Others were old enough to have acquired a thin patina of dust, slowly sinking into the background noise of the pawn shop. The air smelled of a thousand warring perfumes, none of them expensive, all of them flavored with cigarette smoke and stale beer. "Charming," Liam drawled.
Verity	WHO DIDN'T WANT A HORSEMAN'S GLAIVE, LIAM?!? WHAT UTTER FOOL HAD DECIDED TO PAWN THAT?!? It would be hers. It would be. "It grows on you," Verity told him.
Uncle Al	"It's not much, but it pays the bills, and hey, I provide an important public service." Al emerged from the beaded curtain behind the counter, setting the plastic strands dancing. He was a mountain of a man, with the build of a former wrestler and the belly of a championship eater. Both impressions were accurate. For all that he hadn't seen the inside of a ring since before Verity was born, he was still light on his feet, and he moved along the narrow channel through the clutter like it had been made for him. Verity grinned. "Hi, Al." "Wait. Wait-wait-wait. Senility has finally come crashing down on this old man like a flying piledriver, because I could have sworn I just heard little Verity's voice coming out of this blonde chick in front of me, and that's not possible, because little Verity is still in elementary school."
Verity	Verity's grin widened. "Hi, Uncle Al."
Uncle Al	"Very!" He spread his arms, lumbering forward to sweep her into an embrace. Liam had the good sense to get out of the way, which was probably the only thing that saved him from being swept up. Al's hugs were all-encompassing, and had won him several title bouts back when he still wrestled. "I knew you wouldn't forget me until the reading of the will! Not like your ungrateful siblings, feh, see if they inherit anything worth having when I'm gone."
Verity	"You're never going to die. You're going to live forever, and when Death shows up to collect you, you're going to convince him to pawn his scythe." Which Verity would probably also try to buy. She squirmed a little in his embrace and Al let go. She stepped back, out of easy hugging range, and took Liam's hand. "I need papers. I have money."
Uncle Al	Al raised an eyebrow, looking from their joined hands to Liam's face. Then he crossed his arms, and said, "Speak, boy."
Liam	"Woof," Liam said dryly. "Pleasure to meet you, sir." And this was where most people might offer their free hand for a shake, but... Liam was not most people.
Uncle Al	"What are you?" Al asked. "What do you need papers for with a white boy raised in America?"
Liam	"Not that white, actually," Liam corrected. "Also Filipino and something else I promise you've never heard of." Also while he was from DC, he hadn't actually been raised there- or anywhere- but that wasn't the sort of detail he mentioned on a first meeting.
Uncle Al	"Still look white," Al said. "Enough that ICE isn't gonna stop you walking down the street and demand to see your papers. What kind do you need?"
Verity	"Full set," Verity said. "Passport, birth certificate, social security card, all the way down the line to citizenship. Everything a normal kid born in the US of A would have. Diplomas, the works."
Uncle Al	Al snorted. "You fucking him? No offense, boy, I'm sure she's an excellent lay."
Liam	"Some taken," Liam said, visibly bristling. "This really the sort of conversation we should be having in public?"
Uncle Al	"This isn't public," said Al. "This is my shop. Nobody here but us chickens."
Verity	"Bucawk," Verity said blandly. She knew Uncle Al was just taking Liam's measure. "Yes, I'm sleeping with him. I'm actually planning on marrying him as soon as we have his papers sorted, so if you could do me a solid and get this started, and maybe throw in a Nevada marriage license, that would be swell."
Uncle Al	"Why do you need a new ID for your boy?" asked Al.
Liam	"Hello?" Liam grumbled. "Am I not part of this conversation? Considering this is my life we're talking about?"
Uncle Al	"No, you're not." Al finally turned to focus on him. "You're the stranger Verity Price brought into my house. She knows the rules around here. If I decide you're a threat, you're going to have trouble walking back out those doors. This is a Las Vegas establishment, which means the house always wins. Now be quiet and let her negotiate for your life."
Verity	"You're not scaring anyone, Al," Verity said. "Did you miss the part where I just called him my fiancé? You're not threatening some rube I'm trying to relocate. You're threatening a member of the family."
Uncle Al	"Not yet he isn't," said Al. He folded his arms.
Verity	"He saved Sarah, helped me fight off a Covenant purge," Verity said softly. "My sister likes him."
Uncle Al	Al knew how rare that was. Could appreciate the points Verity was making. Still. "What's he running from?"
Liam	Liam had anticipated this question, which is why he spoke up now despite not officially being part of the conversation: "White's not all I pass for. And the Covenant won't care what country I was born in, as far as they're concerned, I don't belong here. Or anywhere." He was leaving out the part about being from a different reality entirely, because he figured this would be explanation enough. And sure, the only Covenant agents he'd crossed paths with either believed he was dead or were in one case an ex Covenant agent, and the latter was the only one who knew he wasn't fully human, but that wasn't the point. He was reasonably sure the Covenant's attitude towards cryptids would extend to aliens.
Verity	"They're certain he's dead, which should help somewhat," Verity said. Helpfully. "Cuckoo certain."
Uncle Al	Al stared at the two of them for a moment before throwing up his hands. "Oh, only the Covenant, she says! Like this shouldn't be the end of the world. Were you followed?"
Verity	"No," Verity said. "I drove a very circuitous route, and checked in several times with the road ghosts to be sure. No one tailed us here." Not to mention that had all happened nearly a year ago. Didn't matter. Not when it was the Covenant.
Uncle Al	"You fucking kids, I swear." Al shook his head. "Twenty-five thousand." Now they were getting down to business. "Fifteen is your usual price." "Fifteen doesn't account for the Covenant of St. George and needing to cook a full background for someone," said Al. "Fifteen is fake IDs that can get you into bars and onto planes. This is 'keep a man from being deported because it's 2019' territory. You marrying him will help with that, but I'm assuming you asked for citizenship because you don't want too many eyes on that wedding ring of yours."
Verity	"You're assuming correctly," Verity agreed. "Twenty thousand, and we get it tonight."
Uncle Al	"Twenty-five thousand, you get it tomorrow morning, and you count yourselves lucky that I didn't throw you out of my shop the second you said the word Covenant." He said it like it was a dirty word. He wasn't wrong.
Verity	"Twenty-five thousand, you throw in the marriage license, and I get to take whatever I want from the knife case." Haggling was part of the routine when purchasing from Al. He didn't believe in prices that couldn't be moved one way or the other, and he usually saw material goods and favors as on a level with cash. It was all about the value of the thing, and showing that you understood what you were getting.
Uncle Al	Al looked at Verity thoughtfully for a moment before he nodded, once, and walked past them to flip the sign on the door to 'closed.' He turned the lock at the same time, the deadbolt clicking home with ominous finality. "You are your father's daughter," he said. "Both of you, come with me. It's time for Dr. Al to make a new man out of you." He gave a wild mad scientist's laugh which devolved into a hacking cough as he made his way back to the door behind the counter.
Liam	Still hand-in-hand, Liam and Verity followed him. Al's workroom spanned a space almost as large as the main pawn shop. Three photo stalls had been set up along the back wall, each with a differently painted background. One mirrored the DMV; one matched the blank background of a cheap passport picture machine; one allowed him to take mugshots. Liam raised an eyebrow at the last. "You fake arrest records?" he asked. "Wouldn't that potentially cause problems for someone trying to make a clean start?"
Uncle Al	Al grinned toothily. "Some people, you look at them and you just know they've done time, right? So when we're setting them up as somebody new, we maybe fake a few minor arrests, slide them into deep background, if they ever get checked out, they look more believable. And sure, they serve more time if they get arrested, since now they have a record, but the important thing is that they serve that time under their new ID. The old one is gone."
Verity	"Artie set up the online stuff and basic paperwork for my Valerie ID, but Al was the one who made sure her paperwork went all the way back to conception," Verity said, taking a seat next to his computer. "He's the best there is."
Uncle Al	"Flattery won't take a penny off your bill, sweetheart," said Al. He looked Liam assessingly up and down. "All right. First things first: let's take some pictures."
Liam	Yeah, Liam remembered this part from his first go-around at establishing an identity: posing in front of backgrounds and filling out form after form. Faking an identity was a surprising amount of work. At least this time he actually knew what was happening, and wasn't just following directions in a bewildered haze of being brand-new to the world.
Liam	"Hmmm," Al said, looking through a thick folder of documents. "You looking to keep the name?"
Liam	"The first name's non-negotiable," Liam said firmly. It was the only thing his mother had ever given him, there was no way he was parting with that, even if only on paper. "I'm not particularly attached to the last name, but keeping it would probably make things simpler." And like Verity had said, 'Liam Kincaid' was common enough that it wouldn't stand out.
Uncle Al	"And here I am, the asshole who organizes it by last name," Al muttered, flipping through. "Lemme see what I can find here." A few minutes of silence and then, "Huh."
Verity	"What do you mean, 'huh'?" Verity asked.
Uncle Al	"I mean, I got a Liam Kinkaid in here," he said. "Kinkaid-with-a-k. Liam N. Kinkaid."
Liam	If it was Kinkaid-with-a-k, it probably hadn't belonged to this world's version of the person Liam's original identity had been based on, but with that middle initial he had to ask... "What's the N stand for?"
Uncle Al	"Nicholas," Al said. "Don't worry though. I can doctor up the birth certificate a little. Spell it right for you."
Liam	He'd relaxed slightly upon hearing it wasn't 'Neville' after all. Nicholas, he didn't mind at all. "I'd appreciate it," he said with a grateful nod.
Verity	"What happened to the original Kinkaid?" Verity asked.
Uncle Al	"He was a Bigfoot hunter." Al's smile was short, sharp, and full of teeth. "He caught one."
Verity	"Ah." Her family generally tried to run the ragged edge of civility between the human and cryptid communities. Part of that was discouraging cryptids from killing humans, even when their family traditions or natural dietary needs meant that it was tempting. (Ghouls, for example. They had mostly eaten dead people before embalming came along and spoiled their food supply; these days, they had a nasty tendency to go after live people, just because they were hungry.) There was no amount of discouragement in the world that would keep a Bigfoot from staving in the skull of a human hunter who had managed to get too close, though. Not even her family could argue with that. There was 'don't be an asshole and eat people who don't deserve it,' but that didn't take self-defense off the table.
Uncle Al	"As I was saying." Al walked back to his computer and dropped the folder next to the keyboard. "No family, no close friends - Bigfoot hunters don't usually go in for those things, they're all glory-hounds at heart - and he's been missing for thirty years, so it'll be pretty simple to close down any old files and update all his timestamps. Tomorrow morning's no trouble, as long as I get my money." "And you'll be careful?" "Sweetheart, I'll be so careful God himself couldn't catch me. Consider it my wedding gift to you." Al smiled at Verity. There was genuine affection in the expression. "Your boy's going to be clean as a whistle, and nobody's ever going to tell you different. The Covenant won't find him."
Liam	And while most of those connected with the cryptid world understood the threat that was the Covenant of St George for obvious reasons, knowing how to avoid them so thoroughly took a specialized sort of knowledge. "Can I ask how you know so much about the Covenant, anyway?" Liam asked.
Uncle Al	"They killed most of my family," said Al. He looked flatly at Liam. "You know what a jink is?"
Liam	"Luck-manipulators, right?" Liam said, a quick glance at Verity for confirmation.
Liam	"You got a smart one, Very," said Al. He nodded. "Yeah, luck-manipulators. Jinks make luck dance. But we can't create it, you got that? We take good from one place and leave bad behind. Most of the time, we're careful. We just twist things a little. Better parking, better housing, milk that doesn't go bad quite so fast, we got it all. But that wasn't harmless enough for the Covenant. They say that we're parasites on the back of humanity, taking things that were never meant for us." Al looked down at his folder, eyes distant. "So they hunt us down, when they can. Me, I was living with my folks and the extended family in Toronto when a purge hit. The elder members of the family bent the luck until it snapped to make sure us kids got out clean. For five years, everything that could go right did, for all of us. You know the price of yanking that much good luck out of the world? There was nothing left for any of our parents, for any of the adults we left behind. The Covenant slaughtered them like dogs for the crime of being a little different. The rest of us... we used those five years to learn how to hide. I decided I wanted to make people disappear, and the best instructors in the world just happened to fall into my path. They taught me what to do. They taught me how to do it. I make a decent living, but especially, if someone needs to disappear from the Covenant, they disappear. That is how I honor my mother and father. That is how I say 'fuck you' to the people who would wipe me and mine from the face of the Earth. And that's how I know so much." Al shook himself, and closed up the folder that contained the seeds of Liam's new identity, knocking it briskly against the desk. "I'll see you both tomorrow morning, along with my twenty-five thousand dollars. Enjoy the last night of your old life, Mr. Liam. Tomorrow, you'll be a new man."
Liam	Liam might have been new to the world of cryptids and the Covenant, but the Kimera had been systematically hunted down and eradicated until his father had been the only one left. And while humanity had not met the same fate, the Taelons had considered them lesser, disposable beings. So he could appreciate where Al was coming from. "You're doing good work," Liam told him with an appreciative nod. He didn’t just mean in regards to his own paperwork.
Uncle Al	"Sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do," Al said, but he looked pleased.
Verity	Verity flashed Al a winsome smile as she stood. "Now, about those knives...?" Sometimes the best way to end a heavy conversation was to start a happier one.
Uncle Al	"You kids, why I'm such a pushover for you, I'll never know," said Al - but he was laughing as he led them back out to the main room, and the pointy, pointy shopping spree of Verity's dreams.