who: Eliot Waugh and Richie Tozier. what: Drinking and being sad probably. where: The cottage. when: October 11. Evening. rating: Mostly just two dudes being sad. References to suicide and character death. status: In progress.
Eliot hadn't really bothered with the whole talking to people on the network thing. He'd just made a beeline for the woods that Julia created because for some reason she was still all goddessed up here. Good for her. At least someone hadn't lost everything.
He was happy for her, he was. What Alice had done was bullshit. And what Penny had taken from her...he never should have done that. It should have been her choice. Julia had been through more than enough and she deserved to hold on to something good. But a bitter, broken part of Eliot wanted to scream. Because everything had fallen apart and he felt completely unmoored.
Being taken over by the monster had been hell. He hadn't been aware when it was happening, trapped in that place in his head, but in the aftermath it was all there in technicolor glory. Blood and gore and pain he'd wrought. That it had wrought in his skin. The only thing that had kept him going had been the thought of getting back to Quentin. Of finally sacking up and telling him he was in love with him.
But Quentin had died in a heroic sacrfice. Or finally succeeded in a suicide that people would accept. Let's not mince words. Quentin had killed himself. It wasn't grand. It wasn't noble. He'd killed himself. And now Eliot had to live without him and he hated it.
He reached the woods and couldn't help a small, fond smile at the cottage. She'd recreated it perfectly. Going inside, he tossed his jacket aside and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a flick of his fingers. Magic might be bullshit and pain and suffering, but at least you didn't need to fish for a lighter.
Moving over to the bar, he fixed a drink in a practiced set of motions. He was very good at drowning his sorrows in alcohol. Glancing up, he froze at the sight of someone he definitely didn't know. It looked like Julia had gotten into a habit of picking up strays.
"You're new," he said. "Need a top up while I'm over here?"