Re: Under the trees: Elijah/Klaus
There were certain effects that occurred in one set of biochemical, biological reactions to substances that were practically poisons as they ribboned through blood, and not in others. Alcohol slowed. It minnowed through the cardiovascular system slowly, lazily. The liver fought, and sawed through impact but alcohol didn't pin-prick pupils, it glazed eyes and dropped jaws until people looked like fishes. Didn't need a textbook to understand all this, this was from the textbooks Elijah had taken to bed, like bibles, during that abortive visit to a university out of town.
Didn't know what it was that was working its way through the man in the coat's system. Foolish, mayday, mayday and the fish-belly white of Elijah's fingers froze on the inching reach toward Klaus's hand. Sadness was not a reason for selflessness. Sadness didn't put whatever it was in his veins but Elijah knew there were no ghosts. Couldn't see him, couldn't reach him, couldn't respond to him. They were dead air and emptied out, a forcible faraday cage for all the strange emanated from Elijah. The boy in the store, the man in the garage, they both hadn't liked it, but they both hadn't been sad.
He was fissured, ice and glass and indecision all frozen visibly on Elijah's face. "Nothing," he said very quickly.