existencemisspent | 33 Apocalypse Ave, Monday afternoon

You're viewing

existencemisspent's journal
Create a Dreamwidth Account Learn More

Reload page in style: site light

Right. So. Margo and Eliot clearly weren't making it back to Fillory any time soon, no matter how often they tried threatening or bribing the portal gnomes. They also weren't going to make it back to Brakebills, judging by how none of Eliot's attempts to contact Quentin again had worked. They were going to be here, in this mysterious little pocket of whimsey next to Baltimore of all places, for the foreseeable future.

They were going to need to find more appropriate lodgings before Eliot broke down and started trying to smoke any of the plants above the lotion shop.

"Well," he said, looking over the façade of one of the few pieces of real estate on the market that wouldn't come with a landlord. "It's no Physical Kids Cottage, but I suppose we can make do."

[expecting the platonic life partner, but can also be open!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

existencemisspent

"Oh definitely. Perhaps we can convert the top level into a sort of VIP exclusive loft space?"

From:

not_a_goddamn_princess

“And give it a little more of a, hm. . .” Margo’s fingers curled under her chin. “Well, I’d have to see the space, but right now I’m thinking. . . Roman?”

From:

existencemisspent

"I was leaning more French," Eliot said. He was often leaning more French. "But I could see Roman being nice. An airy bathhouse vibe."

From:

not_a_goddamn_princess

“Honey, this place is so fucking French already I keep expecting to smell baguettes when I step outside,” Margo said drily. “Come on, picture it. Grape vines, long chairs, pretty boys in their underwear fanning us. . .”

From:

existencemisspent

"Togas," Eliot said dreamily. "Very well, Bambi. I bow to your decadent decatorial instincts."

From:

not_a_goddamn_princess

“Thank you,” Margo said. She preened only for the perfunctory five seconds that statement required; after that, she swept towards the stairs. “Now let’s see what we’re working with.”

From:

existencemisspent

Eliot trailed after her, digging into his pocket for a cigarette.

From:

not_a_goddamn_princess

The stairs opened up to a landing, and what looked like at least two more bedrooms and a bathroom. “I’m almost impressed by how much they managed to fit in here,” Margo said, and looked up. “. . . Less so by the decorating. Ew.”

Was that moldy pizza?

From:

existencemisspent

“Oh. My. God.” Eliot made a horrified face, instinctively performing a spell that should yank the offending thing off the ceiling. “Who even lived here?!”

From:

not_a_goddamn_princess

“I don’t know!”

Margo’s hand darted out in dainty horror. A snap of her fingers, and the pizza was on fire.

From:

existencemisspent

Eliot pulled out his flask. “Right. Adding . . . disinfectant spells to the list.”

He took a long drink and watched the pizza burn.

From:

not_a_goddamn_princess

“This is gonna take a weekend,” Margo said, shaking her head. “At least.”

From:

existencemisspent

Eliot offered her the flask. “At least there aren’t any poisonous plants?”

From:

not_a_goddamn_princess

“And there’s going to be a wall between you and me when we go to sleep at night,” Margo said. “Not that I mind bunking up, but privacy is nice.”

She took the flask.

From:

existencemisspent

“If I wanted to share a room with someone I’d have a boyfriend,” Eliot agreed. (As though part of him didn’t very much want a boyfriend.)

From:

not_a_goddamn_princess

“Would Fillory even let you have one?” Margo wondered. “We’re on another world.”

Her feelings on Eliot and boyfriends remained. . . mixed, if less so than they used to be.

From:

existencemisspent

“Ember’s dead,” Eliot said. “Umber, too. And Fillory doesn’t have any magic anymore. I’m pretty sure that makes me a free agent again.”

He was just going to do his best not to think about what had happened with his last boyfriend, okay?