The Magic Box, Monday

[existencemisspent]

Eliot was doing some online shopping on his phone at the shop today, scrolling through various high fashion options for winter coats and accessories.

"Why are all men's clothing options so dull?" he grumbled to . . . no one in particular. "Wow me with the silhouette and color, damn you. Or at least some nice embroidery like Dolce did in 2012. . . ."

It was fucking cold out, and if he couldn't be in a place where magic kept things to a reasonably mild temperature, he should at least look fucking hot, okay?

[this post brought to you by waiting half an hour in 30F weather for a PCR test this morning. Open!]

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[intheeyeofthebeholding]

And here was Jon stopping by with his usual offering of coffee.

"You seem out of sorts," he noted. He wasn't the best with emotions, but that scowl was notable. "I hope nothing's gone wrong."

He probably would have no opinions on fashion; sorry, Eliot.

[existencemisspent]

Eliot accepted the coffee without looking up from the shopping website. "Nothing you'd understand, darling, you'd wear a trashbag and say 'it cuts the wind'."

[intheeyeofthebeholding]

"...to be fair, plastic would probably be fairly warm," Jon pointed out.

[existencemisspent]

“And thus my point is made.” Eliot sipped his coffee — without even doctoring it first! — and closed his eyes with a pleased sigh. “Does it get this cold where you’re from, Jon? Surely Hell is at least warm.”

[intheeyeofthebeholding]

"London can get cold," Jon said. "Not this cold, maybe, but wetter. The apocalypse was...well, no, it wasn't cold. Very small mercies, I suppose."

[existencemisspent]

“Tell me more about this apocalypse. I’ve helped avert them, but never seen one.”

[intheeyeofthebeholding]

Jon looked down into his own coffee. "All fourteen fear entities came through into the world. They took their own domains, and everybody was absorbed into them. The Desolation had an unending burning building nobody could escape from. The Slaughter had a war zone where everybody was eternally fighting in trenches. The Dark...the Dark got most of the children. Monsters in the dark, chasing them down, with no real safety."

It should have been harder to talk about it. There shouldn't have been a part, after everything, that still felt like he belonged there.

"Different combinations of fears, different domains, spread over the world. Everybody either an avatar or a victim, living in endless fear or causing it. No sleep, no comfort, nothing good left."

[existencemisspent]

“Jesus. Hell indeed.”

[intheeyeofthebeholding]

"Its only saving grace was that it was a closed system," Jon said grimly. "Nobody new was being born, and the End always takes its price eventually. Given time, everybody would have died, and the Fears would have followed them."

[existencemisspent]

"Okay, yes, that's . . . good, but also . . . everyone would have to die. So . . . not the best solution."

[intheeyeofthebeholding]

"Less a...um. Less a solution and more a...a containment." And a can of worms Jon didn't want to really open. "That was just how it worked."