Say When (A New Year's Brunch)

[eliotwaugh]

Eliot had been warned by various people that New Year's often brings some kind of supernatural mischief to Darrow, and this news had only made him more determined to stick to his plan. No power of god or man or eldritch entity place-spirit or army of fish people will prevent him from throwing a damn party. 

It made sense, really, and part of him wishes he'd done something like this before now. He needn't frame it as a sort of surrender to this imprisonment, but rather just indulging in something frivolous because, as far as his understanding of the metaphysics goes, none of this really counts. So why shouldn't he enjoy it? He's been here long enough to decorate the apartment some, and it really is a marvel the amount of things available through Nile. There's more comfortable furniture, potted plants, and a series of apothecary cabinets and display cases for magical components that give the whole place the air of some eccentric explorer's gallery of curiosities. 

He's even managed to get enough appliances that the little kitchen is decently functional, and has spent a few days stocking up and preparing for what he hopes will a successful brunch. He has enough eggs to feed an army. There will be copious crepes. There will be mimosas for days. 

Eliot's used to working through a wicked hangover this time of year, so he built that into consideration in his prep time. Thanks to the night's adventure, though, he spends his downtime sober and scrubbing mer-blood off of himself, and still feels a bit frazzled by the time the first guests arrive.

[It's time for brunch! Brunch is a state of mind, not an actual timeframe, so please feel free to have your pups show up whenever in the day, honestly. Tag in, tag around, chase the memory of merman horror away with a mimosa, air your grievances and dirty laundry in the neutral ground of Eliot's apartment. This is a safe space. For Drama.]

Comments

[annebonny]

"There you are."

She smiles as she draws up beside Jack at her perch over a platter of eggs. She saw him the moment she came in, eyes always drawn to him, especially in that coat. He'd seen her too, though he hadn't come near. She'd stayed with Greta for a little while, met her friend, before finally managing to pull away. So it isn't so much that she's found him; just that he hadn't come to her.

That's all right, of course. But she doesn't want to be apart too long, with all these people around.

"Enjoying yourself?" She eyes the eggs, which are significantly depleted.

[jackrackham]

Jack breathes a small sigh of relief as Anne settles in next to him. He has been having a nice time, but he feels more at ease with her standing next to him. "You should try one," he says, indicating the platter of eggs. "They're good."

He keeps his eyes on her for a moment, not really sure where he wants to start. He wants to tell her that Eliot is a king and he wants to tell her that half of the things on these shelves could be used to do magic, but it also feels like there's a more pressing question to ask. His eyes flick down to the shirt that is definitely not the one she left in this morning, then over to where Greta is talking with a very tall redheaded man.

"You went to get Greta. Did something happen after you left?" He tries to keep his tone light, but some of his wariness about Greta creeps into his voice. He's not entirely sure what he's asking, but he is sure that Greta has been someone that Anne has started to trust. That's rare, for Anne, and as much as he wants Anne to have people to trust, he doesn't want to see her get hurt if that trust is misplaced.

He tries to push aside the worry that Anne being so thoughtful towards Greta might mean that his bed will be empty again in a month or two.

[annebonny]

She does try one, and they are good, so she focuses on eating for a moment while she thinks about how to answer his question.

She knows what he means to ask, what he's really asking. The borrowed shirt might be close enough to what she wears, hidden enough by her coat, that no one else would notice; but it must be obvious to him. She can imagine what that might look like to him, what he might think. But she don't know how to address that. Feels like it would be a mistake to try.

Anne keeps her eyes on the spread of food as she answers, "One of them... things from last night. Straggler. It was outside her house. So I took care of it." She gestures over her front. "She wanted to get me cleaned up, so. Shirt's in her laundry. She gave me this."

That's the truth, and she can only hope it'll set his mind at ease. She picks up another egg and looks up at him as she eats it.

[jackrackham]

He keeps his eyes on her a little longer as her gaze drifts away from his own. "It's fortunate for her, that you decided to check down that far." He knows that she meant to check on Greta, and there's something in that, but digging into that more feels like it would be a mistake. "I doubt she would have liked to get her hands dirty." He watches Anne's face until she looks back up at him, then he lets his gaze drift out over the rest of the party-goers.

His eyes land naturally on Eliot. He's faced away, talking to a young woman that he doesn't recognize, but he can tell from his posture and the way his head is tipped down a little, that he's smiling.

"I learned something about our host," he says, leaning towards her, but still watching the line of Eliot's shoulders. The corner of his lips lift up into the trace of a smile. "He's a king. Was a king, in his...other world." He chuckles a little, and nods towards the chest at the side of the room. "He's got a crown in there."

[annebonny]

"He's what?" She blinks at him, her mouth full and her question muffled. She might've wanted to venture something about how there's more to Greta than he thinks, but something tells her that would be a mistake, and now it's all but forgotten. Eliot, a king, and Jack smiling about it like it ain't even surprising.

She looks across the room at Eliot, who seems to spy them looking and lifts his drink toward them in some half-hearted toast with a crooked smile.

Anne turns back to Jack at once. "He's a king?" she all but sputters.

[jackrackham]

Jack keeps his eyes on Eliot, and it's almost as if Eliot senses them watching, because he turns around and acknowledges them with a smile. Jack straightens his posture, feeling a surge of something like pride gathering in his chest.

Anne's reaction makes him turn back to her. He chuckles and nods. "He's a king. I can see it-" He lets his attention drift back to Eliot as he holds the attention of the people around him. "I don't think what he is is like being a king of England. More like a king out of a fairy tale. You see how he is with people, he has a talent for it. "

He looks back at her, a faint smile lingering at his lips. "He was afraid to tell me. He didn't think that a pirate would approve." He's still incredibly charmed by the idea that Eliot cared that much about what he thought. It's funny, and also it feels nice in a way that he can't properly describe to know that Eliot is invested in their friendship.

[annebonny]

Anne's expression changes minutely as she watches Jack notice Eliot looking, watches him shift his posture, watches his smile change. By the time he's looking back at her, she's as guarded as ever, but she recognizes all of this. She's seen it before. She saw it when they first appealed to join the Ranger's crew, she saw it when Jack spoke loftily of Teach's brilliance. Here again, over this fairy tale king who's made his own interest clear, if not plain.

Fuck's sake.

She scoffs softly, turning to look back at the food, though she's lost her appetite. Jack wouldn't like it if she challenged his ideas about Eliot and his 'talent for it', or if she questioned why he was wrong to think Jack wouldn't approve. She doesn't want to sour his mood, and she supposes she probably shouldn't insult their host. But she has to say something.

"Awfully hands-on for a king," she says, thinking of how he'd fought alongside them last night. It wouldn't be a bad thing, and she might even agree with parts of Jack's assessment if she had a better sense about what Eliot wants to gain from it all. Jack doesn't seem worried about that in the slightest. She raises her eyes to him again. "You trust him?"

[jackrackham]

Jack hums in agreement to Anne's assessment. It was surprising to see Eliot in action last night. He knows that Eliot had been in some sort of battle, but how he had talked about it, it didn't seem like a common enough occurrence for him to become skilled at fighting. The creatures were easy to kill, but all the same, Eliot had settled in beside him and Anne naturally. Jack wonders if it seemed like second-nature to Eliot because of his experience...or just because they work well together.

He meets her eyes. "I do." He glances back at Eliot for a moment before redirecting his gaze to the spread of snacks instead. Maybe he shouldn't trust Eliot. The fact that Eliot hid information from him might be reason enough to doubt his intentions, but he doesn't doubt Eliot's sincerity. If anything, he feels like he might trust him more now that he knows Eliot had been worried about what a pirate might think of him.

Jack reaches out and adjusts one of the plates, feeling like he needs something to do with his hands. The party really is remarkably put-together for how long they'd been fighting last night. Eliot must be exhausted. "He likes to make people feel welcome. That's all."

[annebonny]

Anne keeps her eyes on him while he answers, his gaze traveling to Eliot and then away again, reaching out to neaten the table with that constant, contained restlessness of his. And then he explains, only he don't explain the trust; she's not sure what he's answering with that. Several steps ahead, like he needs to outpace his own thoughts or something awful will happen.

He's been like this before. Brushing aside looks and questions with assurances and answers to questions that ain't been asked. It's all familiar, but familiarity's not much good when she has no more idea now what to say to it all than she ever did. When this, more than it ever has before, leaves her wondering if she's going to lose him.

She has no idea how to venture that subject, and thinks even if she could that it, too, would be a mistake. But it digs at her, the sense of a widening gulf between them, and no idea how to mend it.

In the end, she just turns and leans back against the table, arms folded as she lets her gaze drift over the rest of the people, most of them strangers to her. She settles on Greta as a familiar signpost, still talking to that massive Irishman.

"That one there," she says, nodding her chin toward him. "Says he was a king as well." He said far more than that, and she wants to tell Jack all of it, but later, when she's had some time to sort it out, when they can talk quietly just the two of them. For now, she offers Jack a wry smirk. "Didn't know we'd ever be in such fine company."