HOW IT ALL GOES WRONG... (TW: Mentions of mental illness)
As interesting as Eliot's blinking is, it's also the weirdest thing he's seen in a spell. In turn, he stares, purposefully not blinking until his eyes hurt.
"You are better than buns buns, Wife." But the bunnies slowly creep up on his peripheral vision, and Sweeney's leprechaun physique rises above. For just one second, or less than, but it's enough. His anger boils as bun buns - no FUCKING BUNNIES - hop near his feet.
And they're talking. Sadly, it's not an edict of the High King. "He wants tacos, you moron."
Oooh. "Y'know, you-" He slurs, and remembers to take a sip from his flask to slightly fortify himself. "You should hold hands. Like merry girls dancing in t'forest's clearing."
High, drunk and pissed. It's one hell of a combination. "I'm gonna kill a pissant of a God."