The Magic Box, Monday

[existencemisspent]

Eliot was once again lying on the floor of the Magic Box rather than doing anything crazy like, you know, working or something. This time was much less out of unrelenting boredom, though. He was just tired.

Sleep was a bit hard to come by since the whole nightmare house thing. And there was only so much caffeine and similar chemical assistants could do after a while.

(Also, apparently Margo had been taken off to Fillory without him. And came back to tell him Penny -- possibly the only person in the multiverse who both could and maybe would try to bring them back and forth on their own terms -- was . . . no longer an option.)

(There'd just been a lot on his mind, okay? And he very much preferred having not much at all on his mind whenever possible.)

(Yes, this was the man who had been destined by the gods to be High King of an entire magical kingdom. Really, he should never have been surprised by the fact that they'd done it because they expected him to fail as dramatically and entertainingly as possible.)

. . . Lying on the floor wasn't helping much. Maybe he should look for something magical in the shop that might ease his unfortunately-too-real-to-be-sexy angst.

[moody af, but open!]

Comments

[intheeyeofthebeholding]

Jon was possibly a little (more) timid (than usual) coming in today, but he came bearing coffee for Eliot and tea for himself. He watched for a moment, then carefully set Eliot's coffee down next to him and sat on the floor a few feet away quietly.

[existencemisspent]

“Oh good,” Eliot said after a long moment. He didn’t bother looking up at Jon or reaching for the coffee. “We’ve reached the staring-at-the-pitiful-freak stage of our relationship. My favorite.”

[intheeyeofthebeholding]

"Um. Sorry. I sort of thought it was the 'being present and not annoying' portion," Jon answered. "I told you I'm bad at this."

[existencemisspent]

“It’s not your fault. You’re attempting friendship with a man whose fucked-up-ness is apparently Olympic level. By which I mean it is god-given and -encouraged.”

[intheeyeofthebeholding]

"Considering my 'god' is known for not understanding humans, and I was never terribly good at that on my own, I'd say you're in good company," Jon said wryly. "Or we're both in awful company, as may be."

[existencemisspent]

“Mmm. Did yours choose you specifically because it felt you’d be an entertaining fuck-up?”

Careful, Eliot. Don’t tread too close to giving Jon a statement, here.

[intheeyeofthebeholding]

"More because I'd be a useful one." Jon grimaced. "Though that was mostly Jonah, I suppose. The Eye only cares about the fact I never can stop wanting to learn things."

[existencemisspent]

“That . . . is a curse I thankfully do not bear,” Eliot noted. “Not unless it’s hedonism-adjacent. Speaking of. . . .”

He pulled out his flask and took a long sip, then offered it to Jon. “Want some?”

[intheeyeofthebeholding]

Jon looked up and huffed in laughter. "Why not." He took it and managed a good-sized swallow. He wasn't exactly in Eliot's drinking class, but he could make a good effort. "It's been a rotten week or so. Although at least Margo's back."

He passed back the flask.

[existencemisspent]

“The critical Margo shortage has been addressed,” Eliot agreed. He took the flask back and downed another large sip. “And she even brought news of Fillory.”

Another swig.

“It wasn’t good.”

Here, have the flask back, Jon. You were sharing now.

[intheeyeofthebeholding]

Jon was absolutely sharing. Another sip large enough to hit him hard for a second.

"How...um. No." He concentrated. "I hope it was normal bad and not terrible." Did that sound okay?

[existencemisspent]

“I don’t even know where to draw that line,” Eliot said with a sigh. “When most of your bad news is terrible, terrible is normal.”

[intheeyeofthebeholding]

"Believe me, I know that feeling." Jon sighed and took another swig before belatedly passing the flask back. "You wouldn't think getting burrowed into by supernatural worms was 'the good old days', but there you go."

He slouched a bit further against the bookshelf. He thought of lying down like Eliot, but that seemed like it would make it harder to drink.

[existencemisspent]

It was a skill to be sure.

“Well,” Eliot said, horrified. “That explains the scars.”

[let me know if this is too moddy!]

[intheeyeofthebeholding]

"Hm? Oh, I thought you knew that." Jon tended to think everyone knew everything these days. "Yes, those are the round ones. The smaller ones the ECDC docs got out; the larger ones were a corkscrew."

And that definitely warranted another drink. This thing was still bottomless, right, Eliot?


[Not at all! That's what they are. :)]