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.]

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[loficharm]

Martin does remember, and he nods thoughtfully as she explains, sobering a bit further. He hadn't thought of that, how difficult it must be with that always looming in the background. And it isn't just the tenuousness of this place, either, it's an ongoing history of loss that she's suffered, from the sound of things, far too much for how young she is.

He's quiet for a moment after she finishes, and then he reaches out and touches her arm gently, giving her what he hopes is a reassuring little squeeze.

"I'm sorry," he says. "That sounds awful. And... well. I've never been through anything quite like that, but I—I think I understand." He looks down at the floor briefly. "Thinking you're the problem, I mean. And... feeling like it's safer if you just... don't."

Really, he thinks John is a better candidate to understand that than he is; John, who tried so hard to push them all away, only to lose more and more of them anyway. Martin himself nearly included. But there's plenty of grief and self-recrimination between the two of them that it's not much a stretch to tell Blue he understands.

"You know, Kat kind of saved me," he says. "When I was... sort of relapsing, I suppose. You know, the day we met, when I was so... I'd spent months trying to kinda of make myself disappear. I felt like it was better if everyone forgot about me. Being here sort of threw all that off for a bit, and then back in October, I just... I fell back into it. It was hard not to. All these ideas about it just being better that way, that didn't really go away. And Kat's the one who woke me up. She said she knew what I was going through, and I didn't believe her at first, but... she did. A lot of people helped, but more than anyone, she's the reason I came out of it enough to... to find John, when he was..." He shrugs, not wanting to dip back into that. "The point is, Kat's a good person, we both know that. And we both know she's strong. And... I just think that if she knew you were keeping this at bay for her sake, well... she wouldn't want you to."

It feels a bit hypocritical, giving this kind of advice when he'd just moments ago been trying very hard to get Michael to stop giving him this kind of advice. But, well, Blue probably has a better shot at this than he does, and for Christ's sake, someone around here deserves to get what they want.

[formicine]

The touch is reassuring, and she manages a grateful, if terse, little smile, leaning into the touch, and nodding as he looks down. Martin sort of gives off insecurity along with caring, and it's easy to believe he's thought of himself as the problem before. Blue likes to think of herself as someone who projects confidence, or at least stubbornness if she can't have the former, but when it comes to this she's had her determination hacked at a little too often.

She looks up as he goes on, brow furrowing. Kat had maybe mentioned Martin worrying her, but she's never heard the story from Martin's point of view, and she finds herself swallowing against a lump in her throat from Kat saved me onward, her eyes fixed.

It's a mix: fierce pride in Kat for being both kind and persuasive enough to pull Martin back from the darkness; a deep painful dislike that either Martin or Kat have hurt like that even if it's not currently the case; shame at thinking so much about her own grief when Kat's been through so much; maybe a million other things. She takes it in, nodding.

"She probably wouldn't," Blue admits with a soft laugh at her own expense, and she ruffles her hair, still curly from the sea fog of last night. "She is good, and she's so strong, and she's survived -- so much. And she'd hate it." She can't help smirking. "I mean, I don't even know if she -- what she wants, but she'd hate me making decisions because I thought I knew what was best for her."

She takes a breath. "It's just hard to tell myself nothing's going to happen to her. And if something did--" She lets out a breath. Blue doesn't handle grief sensibly: she nearly fell off a fucking fire escape, that night Tris and Biffy and Lyall and Beth all disappeared at once, and she set Party Poison's car on fire when he and Jack disappeared. But through that, through losing them, Olive and Eduardo, Krem, even Gansey, Kat has always been there with hugs and food and sometimes alcohol, there for Blue's anger and tears. Happily around for weird wishes that turn their apartment into an actual rainforest and totally benign shopping trips that become hilarious because they're them and increasing numbers of other people's animals. It's hard to imagine what life would even be like without her.

[loficharm]

Martin keeps his hand on her arm and his eyes on her as she answers, attentive and gently sympathetic as she trails off. She agrees with his assessment, but it isn't quite that easy, and even without her finishing the implied thought, he thinks he understands.

"Yeah," he says softly, and finally pulls his hand away. "I understand."

He knows he's lucky, in a warped sort of way, that John can survive so much. It's luck that comes at a terrible cost, a gift horse that ought not be trusted. But after having lost so many people and consigned himself to losing just about everyone, it's hard not to feel a certain security over John's... hardiness, for lack of a better word. Blue may have a shot with Kat that he doesn't have with John, but she doesn't have that security.

Digging into it any deeper probably won't help matters, and he has no desire to darken their moods any further at what is meant to be a fun occasion. He glances back toward the drink table and offers Blue a faint smile. "Maybe we should get more of this in us and see if we can't lighten up a bit. There'll be plenty of time to worry when we don't have access to mimosas."

[I'd be good wrapping here if that works for you! Let's let these kiddos drink and lighten our collective loads. ❤︎]