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

[eliotwaugh]

He only seems to be curious, for now, but it isn't enough to fully assuage Eliot's wariness. Of course Jack's curious, it's an odd thing to have around in a drawer. It's odd on a deeper level, Eliot thinks, because he's not used to having any aspect of his identity hidden away or not immediately obvious. It was so much easier before, in Fillory. Not just the comfort of being known and respected, but the fulfillment of knowing that what he did mattered.

Eliot's cut off from that here, even moreso than he'd be if their plan had failed and the world had ended and they'd gone back to Earth. Here he can say 'Fillory' and it means nothing to anyone, it feels so much less real than it should. He feels less real. It's a pernicious weed of a thought, and he tries to push it back down from the forefront of his mind, because Jack is looking at him. Assessing him, it seems like, and Eliot grimaces a little as he meets his gaze, braced for...he doesn't know what. Nothing good.

"No it's--it's mine," he answers, sighing. "It's just silly, because..." No, he can't get into all his self-doubt baggage, not at brunch. There's no crying at brunch. Eliot clears his throat. "I just thought, you know, we've gotten on rather well so far, but as far as I'm aware pirates aren't traditionally known for having much respect for authority figures or, or being very friendly towards the idea of kings." He looks down at the crown in its case. "...or kings in specific."

[jackrackham]

Jack grins. Eliot's apprehension hadn't been about where the crown had come from or his position as a king. He was worried about what Jack might think of him. When was the last time that anyone was worried he might think poorly of them? It's a startling admission, and Jack can't help but be pleased by the care it implies.

"Eliot, kings and pirates aren't cats and mice. We're not natural enemies. God, Henry Morgan was knighted." He laughs, then quiets himself. He doesn't want Eliot to think that he doesn't appreciate the concern. He continues, a little softer. "It's true that it's not likely. Sanctioned piracy makes one a privateer rather than a pirate, and there is an important distinction there, but..." He shrugs. "I don't have any quarrels with you or your kingdom." It hardly matters here anyway, him without a ship, and Eliot without his kingdom, but he doesn't feel like saying that out loud. He'd still like to think of himself as a Captain, and despite him keeping it hidden, he's reluctant to throw away Eliot's title without his permission.

He smiles at Eliot, then looks back down at the crown. "It seems a shame to hide it away."

Eliot, a king. That will take some getting used to. He wonders what being a king is like in a magical land, and if Eliot was a good king to all the strange magical creatures and people there. He'd like to think so. He'd also like to ask more questions, but his friend being a king still feels like a lot to process. He has to think about what to ask first.

[eliotwaugh]

Eliot holds his breath for a moment, anxiety wrestling with frustration at himself for worrying over something so juvenile. As if the possibility of someone saying I don't want to be friends with you anymore is something unfamiliar and devastating. He out of practice at handling something like that, certainly. He doesn't usually put himself in a position to face rejection, but somehow here he is. So he braces himself.

Except the blow doesn't come, only reassurance and amusement, and Eliot blinks at Jack in utter confusion. He's laughing, and it's gentle and not unkind at all, and Eliot thinks that maybe he's just been incredibly foolish about this whole issue.

"I--" He wants to explain himself, but the words die in his throat at the sight of Jack smiling at him like that. Eliot can't remember what he was going to say, and fumbles for a moment, flushing, before he's able to fill the gap with etiquette. "I have to apologize, I...expected the worst somehow, and did you a great disservice." The shock finally gives way to relief, and Eliot smiles, crooked and flustered. "I am glad, though. That you don't mind. And I don't have it shut up all the time," he adds, starting to feel lighter now that he can actually talk about it. "Just that there's a lot of company over, plus I don’t have many occasions to wear it anymore. I like to be overdressed, you know, but perhaps not that much."