ɑgɛɳt ɱѳɓiuร (jetskiing) wrote in noexits, @ 2022-03-08 21:23:00 |
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Eliot could appreciate the androgyny for a week. The clothing was right up his alley. He hadn’t been this richly dressed since he was royalty, and the gown? robe? kaftan? was ornately embroidered with black bead work, and not a single bead clashed when it came to the rich color. It was the rest of the changes this week which were less than optimal. But the unicorn he’d woken up with scrambled out of their room fairly quickly, which Eliot took as a sign that he could carefully spread out all his clothing on belongings on both beds until he could make things work. He began to gesture with his hands, but nothing happened. The strangest part being, Eliot knew it wouldn’t work. Just as he knew he wasn’t without magic. Whatever was happening was different. He checked the network and then regretted it. Another near death experience. Eliot, it seemed had nine lives. It was just easier to ignore that he’d been wrong about everything last week and there was another Eliot in another Derleth who apparently had no problem betraying a copy of everyone he knew on top of being a near useless alcoholic who may or may not have slept with Carver. No, instead Eliot preferred to admire his shoes, his elven reflection in the mirror, the Lord of the Rings ears and all. The rings were new, but Eliot almost always had rings on his fingers, and they were beautifully ornate. Something strange happened. Like learning magic all over again, Eliot cast, because he had an idea he could cast. It wasn’t casting in the traditional sense, but he found he could imbue the trunk with magic. And suddenly, like Mary Poppins, he could easily fit his wardrobe properly in his trunk once more as long as a few other items he’d collected over the months. Neat. Now to leave his room, which was at the moment, the second level of doors hung on the wall in a great entryway, which Eliot hopped down with a surprising level of grace before checking his phone and then looking for Mobius. The whole wall of doors thing was not what Mobius was expecting - after Butler Hall had been destroyed, sure, there clearly had to be something. They couldn’t just rely on the reset, could they? That would just be silly, to rely on a reset that fixed everything else in their janky time loop... No, they had to end up with a wall of doors, swirls of color and designs that looked like whole universes and waves of stardust - felt like wandering into a new universe, definitely. The spiral staircases were also reminiscent of corkscrews and DNA strands, something Mobius could envision himself breaking a neck on if he ever got too intoxicated - but hopefully it wouldn’t come to that because yikes. They had enough shit trying to kill them on a regular basis - clumsiness didn’t need to be added to the list. But he had a list of things he needed to do, now that they were in a different setting and in for a whole lot of other weirdness. Checking on Eliot was at the top of the list - because seeing him in that coma made Mobius’s heart clench, knowing there was nothing he could do. The week just had to run its course and even then, well - time permanence resonated in his mind, clanging like bells, and he had to hope that Eliot would be granted a break regardless. He followed the scent - literally, Mobius could. Maybe his connection with Eliot was due to the intricacies of time itself, which he was well-attuned to. Something refreshing, in its scent - the way it flowed like a river. Mobius saw him, hurrying over in his own period ensemble (it wasn’t bad - there were a lot of ties and buckles though). “Hey you,” he greeted and had to reach up to snag his time kid in a hug (since Eliot the stringbean was a bit taller) but that didn’t stop Mobius from snatching him and oof. A collision. Eliot tensed for the first second. It was ingrained in him. His aloofness was a sort of defense mechanism until he decided a person was someone he wanted to keep close to him. Mobius was one of such people. But were they really hugging friends? Eliot melted a little and returned the embrace. “This is nice,” he said out loud. Eliot hugged all of his friends. He hugged Alice and Margo and, well, Quentin obviously. He had new friends since coming to Derleth he would estimate he was on hugging terms with. But Mobius? This felt different. Which was why Eliot’s face softened slightly. It threatened to reach a deep hurt Eliot did his best to ignore. Hugging friends was certainly a simpler explanation. Mobius and Eliot worked together, there was respect, a mutual appreciation for one another’s wit perhaps? But this hug felt different than that. Like acceptance. Before Eliot allowed himself to dwell too deeply about it, he pulled away and smiled. Hugging friends. That was the easier explanation. For now. He sighed airly, his look sympathetic as Eliot said, “So, your boyfriend’s a unicorn…” That was Derleth for them. It was nice, Mobius agreed. He'd never really considered fatherhood before - when would he have a chance to anyway? His life was a lie - he was a captured variant, brainwashed by an all-powerful organization and meant to do the same job, to sit behind a desk and crack those hard-to-crack cases; he'd asked Ravonna about all the souvenirs she'd acquired in her office, plucked from various cases across space and time and the eons they'd known each other, and her answers hadn't even made sense then. Yet he'd accepted them. Like he'd accepted that his purpose was to serve the Sacred Timeline, and ensure its safety. So connections? A family? Not so much. That wasn't his purpose - not then. But he had to admit, it really fit for him now - even if Eliot was grown, even if he technically didn't need Mobius, that didn't seem to matter. Not when the keys fit into the locks so well. He patted Eliot's shoulder, giving him another reassuring squeeze before separating. "Apparently he is," Mobius chuckled dryly. The term 'boyfriend' was still kind of foreign to him but he'd roll with it. "I guess I'm not surprised. The last week ended in a really bad way and I was hoping the beginning of this one wouldn't be so dramatic, but..." Eh. “You’ve been here almost two months now?” Eliot asked. He tried to remember if he saw Mobius, in his existing form, before the strange simulated cartoon reality land. The weeks blurred together and made it difficult. “It feels like we’ve had a few bad weeks,” he admitted. “I’m sorry. I wish I could have been more help.” Eliot knew it wasn’t his fault for dying. Did he die? He wasn’t entirely clear on that, but it was close enough. That didn’t stop the small kernel of guilt for not being there, for being present. Between possession or running away, Eliot had plenty of experience for not being there when he was needed most. He forced himself to smile, just so, and did his best to expel the ’woe is me’ with a small huff. “Do you know what part of town he’s in? Maybe we should split up, cover more ground that way. Normally I’d be able to perform a tracking spell, but I’m still getting the hang of this new form of magic this week.” Mobius squinted thoughtfully. “I showed up when that cartoon island, robot apocalypse thing was happening and that was about seven weeks by itself if you were dumped into said apocalypse so - yeah, been here since. Time is weird,” he chuckled, and that was a strange thing to say from someone whose entire life had been time - he was something of an expert by now, but even he had to admit that the resets made it real damn difficult to keep track of anything. But if he had to guess, his time with Derleth - any Derleth - added up to about three months. Again, hard to measure. He tilted his head a bit, studying Eliot with clear blue eyes - aside from the spinning clocks that appeared when he cast a spell, and maybe the golden glow to his skin, like a storm over the desert about to break open, he still appeared relatively human. It was kind of a trip, being these different Mobius’s - he’d been a vampire, an infinity stone, and now a sorcerer. But, right, Loki. “He was at a tavern but I think he ended up in a field someplace to sleep it off a little - he can wait though,” Mobius insisted. He was completely fine with letting things play out as they would, in the form of a little lesson - and that lesson was sometimes you had to realize that just because you weren’t the main focal point didn’t mean that you were any less important. Especially not to Mobius, in this case. “We’ll find him but I mainly wanted to check on you. And I don’t want you blaming yourself for anything - we have had a few bad weeks, but we’re doing our best. I think we’re getting closer to something - not sure what yet, but something good.” Eliot nodded. He missed the apocalypse, having spent an entire week inside a colorful cartoon dreamworld. Julia not waking him up didn’t surprise him. Margo, Alice, Quentin and Kady however? Or literally anyone else who had known Eliot for months on Derleth… Better not to think about it. Mobius quickly gave him something else to ponder. He was there to check on him. Like the hug, that was also nice. Eliot’s expression softened, his adam’s apple bobbed slightly on his throat as it did whenever he felt himself about to be particularly overcome with certain feelings. Henry Fogg, Dean of Brakebills, had been something of a mentor to Eliot, certainly a role model he aspired to with his beautiful suits, regular day drinking (before quitting) and emotional detachment from his job running a school of young magicians. This wasn’t that. In times of need, Eliot and his friends had no one to bail them out but themselves. Maybe it was a part of growing up. But now, standing in front of him, was someone here, some older, an adultier adult, here to make sure he was okay. “...You came to check on me?” Eliot repeated, as though he couldn’t quite believe it. He listened, and even he, the eternal pessimist, found himself heartened by Mobius’s optimism. Eliot nodded, not sure if he believed they were onto something good, that had always led Eliot to bitter disappointment, but Mobius made him want to believe it could be true. Mobius's expression was a little bit soft too, because he was soft - a 'cinnamon roll' or whatever the phrase was; the times when, during his tenure with the TVA, he had to be cruel or turn the screws wasn't always something he enjoyed as an interrogator. He knew how, he'd had plenty of practice - but it wasn't who he was. Granted, he was still continuing to figure out who he was - yet he knew that much, at least. "Came to check on you," he confirmed with a grin. "If any of your things are missing or scattered - " He'd heard that, rumblings of how people had to go on a couple wild goose (geese?) chases to track down what didn't fit in the new shoebox-sized rooms. "We could go look for them." Maybe talk some more, maybe just walk in silence - whatever Eliot wanted. Mobius just wanted to be a presence, and support, and as long as Eliot was letting him then it didn't matter much to him what they did. Eliot’s shoulders relaxed just slightly. The tension that usually kept him upright melted away. Eliot claimed Margo was covered in hard glossy armor to keep people at a distance, but Eliot had his own armor, too. Mobius had a gift for finding where each piece connected and removing the normal defense mechanisms that would have otherwise tried to keep him at arms’ length. “Just some of the larger things. Mostly from the IKEA we stole. There’s not a lot of room to fit a sofa anymore anyway.” But his voice was softer, almost apologetic. Eliot smiled but he could not quite point his finger as to why. This was not normally how his interactions with people went. “We should probably look for the IKEA. The first week after we stole it sort of fucked up Derleth. I was a good two inches shorter and I did not approve.” Which was over dramatic considering some woke up anywhere half a foot tall to closer to nine feet tall, but that was Eliot. He raised his hands to cast, and then remembered his casting worked differently now. “Right,” he sighed. “I don’t suppose a locator spell came with your new tan?” His new tan - that made Mobius snort a laugh, as he looked down at his hands. The golden sort of glow was a bit stronger when he was casting, apparently, but he guessed he did have something of a tan. More than usual, anyway. Like he finally had gotten a chance to sit out on the beach he so craved, soaking up sunshine which felt like a comforting hand pressing on him. Not much of it happening though, sadly - he always heard stories about Disneyworld and Planet Vegas, and only had experience in various Derleth hellholes to remember. “I don’t...think so?” he mused, brow furrowing. “But I guess I could try - it feels like a lot of something just sitting there. Magic. It kind of crackles a little, I can tell it's there and there’s a lot of it.” Did he know how to use it? Maybe innately - maybe it would be like riding a bike, or something he sort of instinctively knew. Like how to cook (even if he was no expert). Or how to drive a car - he’d effectively managed to not kill him and Sylvie in that Void getaway pizza van, so he must have known how to drive in his old life. No need to do it much in the field, not when you had Timedoors. “We can look for the IKEA though. If the campus did away with it, well, I guess we’ll know for sure either way. How do I cast a locator spell?” Derp. Eliot’s brows went up, but to his credit, he did not apply his hand to his forehead or roll his eyes. The eye rolling was close but then, his patience was both honed and exhausted by teaching first years how to find and discover their magic. He could do this. Even if he still didn’t really know how either of their magic worked. “Let’s go look at where we put the IKEA last and go from there.” Eliot led the way to the Old Gym, where they kept the IKEA previously, pondering over how to help Mobius unlock his magic, assuming he had any. He certainly looked vaguely mystical. Probably shocking him into using his magic was (A) not going to work and (B) going to blow back in his face if it did. “Trust yourself. You might not have a locator spell. You likely have something. What’s something that feels natural to you? Maybe try that.” Mobius considered it - he’d likely need all of the help that he could get, and Loki (the one who was currently not a drunk unicorn) promised to assist as well, so he’d take all of the tips he could manage to collect. “Trust myself,” he repeated. “I’ll try.” Outside the Old Gym there was some greenery - a couple of trees, patches of grass in planters. Some weeds, really, since on its best days the campus wasn’t anything too immaculate or fancy, even when they weren’t side-by-side with the dark versions of themselves. “Maybe this - “ He touched the weeds and focused and, somewhere in the distance, a clock chimed - it wasn’t the clock in the Old Gym either. It was far-off, a rich chime of a grandfather clock perhaps, and then the weeds became a flower. A daisy? Mobius handed it over to Eliot. “I can do that?” he chuckled sheepishly. Eliot smiled and accepted the flower to look over. “Naturalism? Horomancy? Or those categories of magic don’t apply here at all. But, this is good. Usually we have to scare the shit out of first years to get them to do something.” The IKEA was not in its usual spot. It could have been moved. Eliot personally hadn’t used the tiny IKEA since he raided it for his own items. They walked to Peaslee, it wasn’t there. Eliot frowned. He’d been quiet as they walked. Occasionally they passed other people’s belongings scattered over the campus. If any of it was Eliot’s, he didn’t bother to pick it up. “This could be a temporary change. Next week, our rooms could be exactly as they were with all our stuff back. Or…” He was thinking out loud. It helped to think out loud in front of Mobius. He was a calming presence. “It’s not an emergency, so, I move we postpone the search for the missing IKEA. Next week, as long as these changes aren’t permanent, I’ll be able to do a proper magical search.” Eliot looked to Mobius for confirmation? Considering Butler Hall had been squashed, Mobius had the sinking feeling that what they just got when they woke up in this new place was going to be what they got - it wasn’t changing, though he sorely hoped it did. The rooms were small and lacked privacy, the group bathing facility wouldn’t be most people’s first choice, and having to perform leaps and bounds (literally) to get to their revolving door was also a ‘quirk’ he could do without. But who knew - maybe their old digs would be back. Derleth had done stranger things, after all. He let Eliot muse out loud, put the pieces together, and gave him space to see what ideas he could come up with - they had Natasha as their ‘official’ leader but Mobius always thought Eliot was good for the job too. He had a certain charisma about him, and he was a good kid. Not a kid, but you know. To him it was different. “Sounds like a plan - maybe this week will be calmer too, and we can focus on stocking up on supplies and just...not dealing with the same type of stressors we dealt with last week,” he said, patting Eliot’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, kiddo.” He’d maintain that optimism. Someone had to. He should have hated being called kiddo. Coming from anyone else’s mouth, Eliot would have hated it. Why didn’t he hate it? He would likely overthink it later. Possibly because Mobius’ tone wasn’t condescending? It was strangely, for Eliot, supportive? Caring, even? He cleared his throat with his thoughts instead. “Okay, you find your boyfriend. I’ll take a lot around town and scope out what they have in terms of supplies.” Eliot had a coin purse on his belt, which he unlatched and opened up. “We’ll see what any of this currency is actually worth. And if the answer is depressingly comedic, find another way to make some money…” It took Eliot a moment to latch the small bag back onto his belt. His time in Fillory had been spent mostly at Castle Whitespire where currency hadn’t really been needed. “I hope this week is calmer,” Eliot said. He was an elf. Besides the actual Fellowship, the elves more or less seemed pretty laid back in the movies, right? Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. Mobius had discovered some currency too - gold coins, and since these pants lacked actual pockets, well. The matching coin purse now attached to his belt was helpful. “It should be - calmer, I mean,” he said. The last few weeks really hadn’t been - but weren’t they due for a break at some point? Maybe that was just foolish of him to consider, since Derleth was its own animal. An animal that seemed to enjoy fucking with them - or it was simply that chaos couldn’t be bridled or contained, yet if He Who Remains had managed it, squashing everything into a Sacred Timeline, then Mobius was sure they could do it here too on a much smaller scale. Just had to get through this first. Like finding his boyfriend. “Better get to Loki, yeah - who knows what other kinds of trouble he’s gotten into,” he winced jokingly. “I’ll check in with you later though.” That was a promise. And he always kept those. |