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The Perk, Late Tuesday Morning

Parents Weekend had come and gone, and with it, absolutely zero visitors for Ulysses. Or any other indication that he wasn't just fully cut off from the world he'd come from. Which was, you know. Great. Super great, and not at all concerning, considering that whole fucking lizard man situation he'd encountered on his last night in LA - which, by the way, the premonition nightmares had suddenly stopped after that, which had to be some kind of sign, but fuck if he knew what of.

... So anyway, he may have kind of flipped out a little at the end of the weekend, and headed over to the mainland and, long story short, he was still wearing the same clothes right now that he'd had on Sunday night, now that he was slumped over a table at the Perk, next to a giant coffee.

This was fine. Everything was fine.

[ooc: Very open.]

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"Well now. You look like you had an interesting night."

Wasn't a tall, dark, and handsome not-quite-stranger just what you were hoping for, Uly?

Another tall, dark, extremely handsome not-quite-stranger was part of the reason for his current state anyway, so, at least it was like a theme?

"Interesting night, and interesting... whatever you call the night before last night," he muttered, before actually righting himself in his chair enough to look up. And then raise his eyebrows a bit, startled in a very tired way. "Eliot. Hi."

He tried to pull himself a little more upright in his chair, and pushed curls out of his face, but honestly? His give-a-fuck about Eliot's impression of him was kind of broken at the moment.

Eliot had a thing for hot messes, so that was just fine.

"Ulysses," he said, smiling faintly. "Hi. Been out on the town, have you?"

"Yeaaah, you could say that," Ulysses said, still trying to will his hair into order, then giving up. He reached for the coffee, instead. "Been a, uh, a weekend."

Uly, it was already Tuesday.

It was nice of the narrative to point that out, as Eliot certainly wasn't going to.

"Entertaining guests?" he asked idly. "Or finding your own fun?"

Uly's snort was maybe a little bigger than he'd meant it to be. (He... wasn't still drunk, was he?) "No guests," he said. "Nope. I'm officially --"

There was a gesture with his one free hand, like a flaily slash.

"Cut off from the rest of my world. Portalocity's even saying there's no service? Honestly, I didn't even know there was service before I landed back here, out of nowhere."

Eliot grimaced sympathetically. "That's about where I was before this weekend," he said. "Until a half-man, half-peacock found me in the woods and informed me I'm needed for a grand quest."

He pulled out his flask, took a drink, then offered it to Ulysses.

"Sometimes guests are overrated."

Ulysses accepted it without even thinking about it.

"Not these ones," he muttered glumly, before he took a swig. (He didn't have a lot of people in his life, okay?) Some of his moodiness gave way to a different type of frown, though, as the rest of what Eliot had said actually passed through to his brain. He looked up. "Wait, did you say half-peacock?"

"Called himself the 'Great Cock'," Eliot confirmed. "With a straight face and everything."

A noise that was about half snort, half laugh escaped Ulysses.

"Right," he said, holding the flask back out to Eliot. "Did you have fun with that?"

"A little," Eliot said. "Especially the bit where he asked if I'd ever beheld a great cock before."

"... Have you?"

Look, Uly's queerdar was generally pretty dependable, but when you had the perfect opening to ask, you asked.

"A few," Eliot said with a chuckle. "My own included. Yourself?"

Ulysses had given that flask back just a moment too soon.

"A few," he said, with only a little bit of hesitation. Then his head tilted a little, curls flopping around, and his face scrunched up in thought. "But, I mean. Great is a pretty big word."

“It is,” Eliot agreed. “But I’m sure at least one or two in your experience must rate such size.”

"Mmmaybe a few."

Okay definitely a few.

"But... Always room for more?"

"Oh," Eliot said, nodding seriously. "Most definitely."

"Right," Ulysses said.

It was possible he was too hungover-or-maybe-still-drunk for this.

Or maybe actually just bad at this to begin with.

That was fine. Eliot found that sort of thing charming.

"Can I get you a fresh drink?"

Ulysses looked at his giant cup. It was still half full.

And yet, he looked up and nodded, and said, "Sure."

(Look, it had been sitting there cooling for a long while, anyway.)

"Excellent," Eliot said. "What's your poison?"

"Uh..." Nope, wasn't even going to try to come up with anything that would make him seem 'cool' in any way. "Just another PSL is fine."

"Seasonal," Eliot said. "Perhaps a touch gouache, but charming in its way." He nodded approvingly, and went to order a PSL and an americano.

Ulysses had no comment. He just sort of.. watched Eliot at the counter, trying not to be too obvious about it.

(This guy was tall.)

Tall, and mostly made up of leg, which he showed off to good effect with very well-cut trousers, thank you.

He returned a few moments later with two cups, holding one out for Ulysses to take.

"So. Other than being homesick. How have you been?"

"I'm sort of between jobs, right now?" Ulysses offered as he reached out for the offered cup, grateful. "So... Been trying to work on that."

Mostly by smoking a considerable amount of pot and whining at Illyana about it. You had your ways, Uly had his.

"What about you?"

"Unfortunately I am not between jobs," Eliot said with a sigh, sipping his Americano. "I've taken on a shift at that little magic shop in town. It's not bad, quiet, met a delightful young sorceress. . . ."

"... Blonde, skinny, kinda seems like one of those cats that will suddenly turn around and bite you because you breathed towards them wrong?"

“Says the word ‘chaos’ like it’s ice cream and cocaine,” Eliot said. “That’s her, yes.”

Ulysses made a little face that seemed to say 'huh', even though he didn't. "That's my best friend," he said, a little slowly. "Did she... apply for a job?"

“I guess. I don’t really have the authority to hire her.” Eliot gave Ulysses an assessing look. A hot mess, emphasis on both ‘hot’ and ‘mess’, with a gloriously aggro best friend.

They had so much in common!

“You have good taste. She seems fun.”

"She's terrifying."

Ulysses was kind of into that in a friend, though.

(And in general, sometimes.)

"She's also all I have here, so..."

"I've got one of those as well," Eliot said, smiling. "Margo, she's taken over running the little lotion shop by the spa. Could castrate a man without remorse just by making the right hand gesture. I love her dearly."

"That sounds..."

That was a pretty extreme headtilt Ulysses was doing as he trailed off for a second, there.

"Familiar," he landed on. "Also, I didn't know there was a lotion place...?"

"Pick Your Poison? The name is rather misleading, I admit."

Uly's face did that '... huh' thing again.

"Yeah, I always kind of figured that was, like, maybe a really old timey liquor store?" A beat. "Or just straight-up poisons."

This was Fandom, after all.

"We're pretty sure the creepy greenhouse upstairs is pretty poisonous," Eliot said. "But the store stock seems to be on the level at least."

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The Perk, Late Tuesday Morning

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