RP Log: Five & Eliot Waugh Who: Five & Eliot Waugh What: New friends go out for food. When: July 24 Where: Mother of Pearl at Galdin Quay Warnings: None that I can think of.
Eliot was certain it was going to be an interesting evening. Five was a mystery to him in so many ways, but he’d always been the epitome of kind and respectful when they spoke. There was something about him, even when he got a bit frustrated when something was lost in translation. It was almost like the other made a conscious effort not to share much about himself and while Eliot could understand that to a degree, didn’t everyone need friends? Five was strange, but in a good way. He was different and maybe that’s why Eliot enjoyed their late night conversations.
At the restaurant Eliot was shown to their table, but saw no sign of Five. He ordered a glass of wine and settled in to wait. He’d arrived slightly early so pulled out his phone. A thought occurred to him, Five did know how to get to Gilded Quay, right? He realized he didn’t know how long the other had even been in Vallo. He’d find his way. Five seemed confident and more than capable of finding his way even if was newer in Vallo.
Five could appreciate a dress code that was a step above jeans and a t-shirt, even if he understood the practicality of both garments. He actually didn't hate either of them. But he thought it nice to find a reason to dress up, just a little bit, in a place where too many crazy things happened. And perhaps this was the craziest of all, the possibility of making a friend. Unless his siblings counted, but he wasn't sure if they did. And given he only had two left in Vallo, one of whom was a ghost… He didn't know. He wanted them to, but he didn't really know the ins and outs of making friends. Even if they did, people outside of his family were important, or that's the impression he'd gotten.
He hadn't meant to be late meeting Eliot, but Five realized he hadn't actually known the exact location of the restaurant. He thought he had, and he thought he'd given himself enough time to find it. His watch said otherwise as he entered the establishment Eliot had picked out, though it didn't indicate he was late, precisely. More that he'd arrived exactly on time, though by the time he'd given the host Eliot's name and had been shown to the reserved table, a couple of minutes had to have passed. Not much, but enough that some voice in the back of his head that didn't sound entirely like his own harped on about timeliness and the inability of a time traveler to keep to a schedule.
"Hello," he greeted as he sat down with a small but friendly smile. It was nice, he realized, to put a better face to a name than what the network provided, even if it was a useful tool. He politely thanked the host for the menu, turning his attention back to Eliot. "I hope you weren't waiting long," he said, refraining from checking his watch again as he made a mental note of the wine glass.
At the sound of a voice Eliot looked up and quickly put his phone away. "Hey. It's good to meet you. A real face to go with all the words," he smiled. Eliot took the menu and began to browse it. "I haven't been waiting long at all, don't worry. I started with wine," he said noting Fives' glance to his glass, "but feel free to order whatever you'd like." In his mind Eliot was trying to remember certain things they'd talked about. More specifically Fives age. If memory served him correctly he'd told him he was in his sixties, but in the body of someone younger. He hadn't really explained it to him clearly, so he had no idea how old the other was.
"The food here is excellent. The menu changes with the seasons, but I've yet to be disappointed." Eliot was staring too much as his mind worked to figure out how old Five was. He needed to stop. He felt saved by the bell when the waitress appeared asking if they were ready to order. The Butternut Squash Ravioli with White Wine Sauce sounded amazing so he ordered that.
After Five had ordered Eliot reached for his wine and took a sip. "Do you work? I can't remember if I asked that before. If I have, pretend I haven't," he grinned.
"It's very nice to meet you, too," Five said sincerely, nodding briefly to indicate he agreed about a real face being attached to words. And to acknowledge that Eliot hadn't been waiting long. He made a note to make his own map one day as he looked over the menu.
"I can honestly say I've not been here before, so I'm glad to hear the food comes highly recommended," he said, looking up at the other momentarily. The idea of seasonal menus was intriguing, to say the least. It made him wonder if the chef and cooks liked the challenge of coming up with new things or if some of them longed for a year round familiarity. Either way, from what he could gather by the menu, it all sounded quite interesting.
When the waitress came, Five opted for tomato tart and a white wine, giving her a polite smile when she took his order.
"I can't recall, either, so we can say it's the first time," he admitted, returning Eliot's grin with one of his own. "Mostly odd things. I'm good at math and am very fast with things like deliveries, so it's mostly odd jobs. What about you," he asked genuine curiosity in his expression. Some people seemed capable of making careers in this place, though he doubted his skill set would work as well here. It made him all the more curious about Eliot and what he'd found himself doing to pass the time.
“You’re in for a treat then and I don’t just mean the food.” Eliot laughed then shook his head. He couldn’t help being a bit silly. This was the first time he’d done anything outside of work since Quentin had disappeared and it felt good to be social, to get out.
Eliot chuckled. “I’m not sure that bodes well for our memory.” The moment Five began to share what he did it seemed vaguely familiar to him. “You make enough to live off from these odd jobs? Or are you a kept man?” He teased with a wink. “I’m a bartender at Dorian’s Gray Room. I’ve been there, mmm about nine months now. Damn, I didn’t realize it had been that long.” Some days it felt like he’d only been in Vallo a few months, other times it felt so much longer. “I like it for the most part. I make pretty good tips, too which doesn’t hurt,” he smiled.
Their food was brought and Eliot ordered another glass of wine. “So how long have you been here? I probably already asked that, but apparently my memory is shit.” He smirked before turning his attention to his food. If only that were true. There were many things he wished he could forget.
"I don't think I've been to Dorian's Gray Room," Five admitted, making a mental note of it. Would they even let him in, all things considered? Then again, he managed to get by in most places. He supposed when pixies made coffee, and turkeys ran rampant committing murders, someone in his predicament was rather tame by comparison. It was almost refreshing if he thought about it. Almost. "I'll have to come by some time," he added with a friendly smile.
Five let his attention be drawn to the food as it arrived, and he gave another polite thank you to the server. It never seemed to make any sense to him to be rude to anyone handling food, especially food he wanted to eat.
Turning his attention back to Eliot, he said, "I've been here a little over a year," or what constituted one. He still wanted to know about the odds of this place syncing up to what was Earth in various universes. Was it something those first few arrivals had somehow managed to wrangle, or was it something else? Something more akin to how Narnia had Christmas? He hadn't been quite curious enough to investigate, but it still lingered in the back of his mind from time to time.
"As for your previous question, no, no kept man situation here," he said with a friendly smile, taking a sip of his wine. "Most of my family was here at some point, and there's been a lot of just living with them, with a brief stint with a friend Klaus made." Until Klaus and David had both gone home – or gone wherever anyone tends to go when they're no longer here. He worried more than he let on about the family who no longer lived here. Were they safe? Did they manage to avoid trouble? Who had been those people when they'd gotten back to 2019? How had Ben been alive? For the moment, he pushed everything aside, trying instead to focus on the present, on the company and food before him.
He picked up his silverware and cut into the tart, taking a bite. Swallowing, he said, "This is a very good tart. How's yours?"
"You should stop by. It's a nice and lively place. It must be with me working there," he joked. "They're good people. The owners and the other bartenders. I'll make your favorite drink when you stop by. I think I may have asked you that once. Or maybe my memory is throwing a false memory at me, so you should just tell me what it is."
Eliot glanced down to his food and suddenly felt hungry. It had to be the aroma of the food. He dug in then looked back to Five. "Do you like it here? Is it better than where you came from?" He always wondered if he was the only person who wasn't head over heels in love with Vallo. It wasn't the worst place to be and sure, there were shit things that happened back home, but he'd had a hard time adjusting and would never consider this place home no matter how long he was here. And with Q gone now, he liked Vallo less.
Eliot mulled Five's words around his mind. So many came and went. Lately more seemed to be disappearing. Was it something Vallo did to control the population? Or something nefarious. There had to be a reason for people disappearing, but it seemed no one knew why or how. It was bullshit. Pulling people from their homes only to have the possibility of sending them back or to go knows where on a whim.
"My food is delicious. I've never been disappointed. If you like butternut squash I highly recommend it." Eliot paused a moment before speaking again. "I'm sorry so much of your family has disappeared. Three fellow magicians and some friends have disappeared since I've been here. I can't imagine ever getting used to that. Some seem more casual about it, but I never could be." He reached for his wine and drank deeply. "Klaus is your family?" A small grin tugged at his lips. "He was quite a character. We weren't good friends or anything, but he was interesting."
"Well, I won't often say no to a good margarita," Five said. Was it his absolute favorite? Probably not. However, he wasn't sure he had a favorite. Different drinks for different occasions. "What's yours," he asked, curious.
Whether he liked this place more than where he came from, Five wasn't exactly sure. He was in a weird transitional place at home, and here he kept losing his family. Then again, home he kept losing them, too. However, at home he could at least try to do something about it. Here? Here he was pretty sure his existence was superfluous at best and invasive at its most realistic. He took a bite of his tart and chewed thoughtfully as he weighed his world against Vallo.
"I think they're about equal," he said. "Different, but equal, if that makes any sense. What about your home?"
Five took another bite of tart, making a note about the butternut squash. He did like it. He liked people losing those they cared about less, and concern showed on his face as he listened to Eliot talk about his own losses. He agreed that he couldn't imagine getting used to losing people you cared about. How many times had he lost his family? And while he was growing accustomed to the act of losing them, he wouldn't say he was used to it. Not in such a casual way, even if, with a screen between himself and others, he could give off an air of indifference. If nothing else, no one had to see his inability to process exactly what his thoughts were while reading notifications of their disappearances.
"I'm sorry for your losses," he said. "And, yes, Klaus is one of my brothers. 'Interesting' is probably one of the nicer ways to describe him," he added, a small hint of fondness for his brother in his voice. Klaus may have exasperated Five to no end, but he was still his brother, and he still cared about the idiot.
The mention of margaritas made him think of Ibiza, that in turn made him think of Margo and home. "I'll make you the best margarita you've ever had when you come to Dorian's." Did he have a favorite? He sort of like it all. Well, most of it. "There's a signature green cocktail I made back home that I like a lot. I never gave it a name. Everyone always seemed to call it the green drink. I like a nice wine, but I do like vodka and whiskey."
Eliot took another bite of his ravioli and thought for a few moments. "The truth is shitty things happen everywhere. Life isn't fair. That doesn't mean I have to like it here. It's livable and has some good things." Though he was hard pressed to think of any at present. "Quentin is gone and if he went back home he will be dead in a short period of time. My friends are gone and I have a huge cottage that I wander around in alone. They both suck! But I still miss home. I miss Quentin, my friends and I can't do a damn thing to help or change anything!" Eliot took a shaky breath and rubbed a hand over his face. "I'm sorry, Five. I didn't mean to raise my voice like that."
He reached for his wine and drained his glass. "I hate to ask this, but would you mind if we left? I could use some air and a smoke." Eliot felt terrible for asking, but just sitting there wasn't going to help his current state.
Five listened quietly, not looking for a place to interject. He could understand Eliot's position, understand what it was to lose people you cared about. It didn't matter if they were family or friends or even something else entirely; he wasn't a stranger to loss. So he listened, and he let Eliot raise his voice, not looking around to see what others thought. If they were curious or annoyed, Five didn't care. Grief wasn't pretty, and Five merely gave a small nod and dismissive wave of his hand regarding the apology. How many outbursts had he had in his life, after all?
"We can leave," Five said with another small nod. "This place is nice, but it's a little stuffy," he added with a small smile. Then he motioned to the waitress so they could get their checks and head out.