existencemisspent | Voicemail

Please tell me this weekend was the island being strange and you're okay, because that was awful!

Eliot sent him a thumbs up.

He was a little busy just now, repressing this weekend like a champion.

Jon wasn't exactly sure what to answer that with. So when in doubt, cat pictures were good, right?

. . . Wow. Jon was really . . . something, wasn't he.

you are quite possibly the nerdiest man I have ever met. And I have a friend back home who is obsessed with a series of childrens books.

Mind you, those children's books had turned out to be real, and Quentin's obsession had been put to extremely good use so far. But still.

A children's book tried to eat me when I was eight. I'm not fond of them. What's wrong with cat pictures?

what a coincidence, the hero of a childrens book repeatedly murdered me and my friends

If he told Jon things in text, did that make them statements?

cat pictures are fine. they're simply nerdy

Not unless he went into a lot more detail! Please don't go into a lot more detail, Eliot; Margo would kill him.

I've a PhD from Oxford and I was working as an archivist.

as I said: nerdy

The joy of texting, Eliot didn't even need to resist an otherworldly compulsion to give those details. He much preferred casually tossing off allusions to his traumas, rather than actively reliving them over and over again with an audience.

the good news is, no nightmares

Unless you counted the one he'd been -- well, not actually living through -- this weekend.

It was rather nice, wasn't it?

I thought I might as well lean into it.

That is very good news! This weekend seems to be unrelated.

And then, because Jon wasn't much better at dealing with feelings and was a champ at deflection,

There were a lot of strange things happening. I took in a cat and he turned into a very large, half-naked man in my flat.

lucky you! I hope you enjoyed your large half naked man!

Why didn't Eliot get a large, half-naked man? That was clearly unfair.

It was very strange. He seemed nice enough, even if I had spent half the weekend scratching his ears and feeding him tuna.

Jon had no idea what to do with a large, half-naked man, other than offer him a shirt and tea.

That only made it even more unfair.

you didn't scratch ME behind the ears, he sent, with a little disappointed face emoji. though I suppose in that state I wouldn't have appreciated it properly

At least over text, nobody could see him blushing.

You were a bleeding ghost! Autocorrect helpfully added a little ghost emoji after that, which Jon didn't notice until after he'd sent it.

I'm just glad you're not. Next time, I will ask the half-naked man to visit you when he leaves. Or you can find him around. Apparently his name is Goose.

ah yes, the australian cowboy. Made his acquaintance at the speed dating event

He was just going to glide right by that ghost emoji. You're welcome, Jon.

Oh? I hadn't met him before he was a cat. An alien cat. Apparently he ate some furniture? I'm not sure how that worked. This is him:

Of course he'd taken pictures; what kind of temporary cat-owner would he be if not?

Edited 2021-10-04 19:16 (UTC)

you took in a stray cat and it ate your furniture? Eliot asked. that's a new one, even for me

Not mine. His own, before he somehow broke out of his own apartment. I fed him tuna and cat food. And that's a new one for me, too. How am I supposed to mark that on

There was a brief break.

Never mind. Apparently the insurance forms have an option for "Disintegrated, destroyed, or eaten by aliens". I am very glad not to be an adjuster.

I'm told the insurance forms for Brakebills were similarly insane, Eliot said. One of my personal goals is to never have to know about it for sure

Fillory didn't have any insurance at all, so . . . he didn't think that'd be terribly hard.

Brakebills? It was lovely to be able to ask questions without compelling people.

I'd love not to have to, but apparently I manage this place.

University of magical pedagogy, Eliot answered. My alma mater

He just let Margo deal with the paperwork on their place.

I can see why a magical school would want a robust insurance policy, yes. The worst Humanities majors can do is a bit of mild property damage.

don't know, I've met some wild theater majors

but yes. My own cohort ran the dean rather ragged

Theatre majors are an entirely different species.

This was turning into the most normal, low-key conversation Jon had had in years. He clearly needed to text more often.

And most are very proud of it

Eliot included himself in that. Or would, if he hadn't skipped past regular college entirely to attend his magic university.

Somehow the wording of that clued Jon in. Well, that along with Eliot's flamboyance.

You were in drama, weren't you?

I AM drama

In case there was any doubt.

I played Val Jean in high school, in fact

I've read Les Miserables.

That was not the same thing, Jon.

not sure the book properly captures the glorious high notes

Not sure the musical properly captures the entire history of the Paris sewers.

Most people would say that was a good thing.

thank

GOD

Jon actually laughed at that.

You say that like people read Hugo for the story.

I’m not sure why anyone reads much of anything, Eliot admitted.

He was a TV and movie man, all the way.

TBF, the Hugo was for a course. What do you mean *anything*? Books are amazing!

Nerd.

"Eliot, it's Jon. I...I don't suppose you've got that solution ready yet? My computer and phone and TV are all showing a yule log, and I finished my last book yesterday, so it's...difficult. I don't want to rush you if it's not...not ready, but I hoped it wouldn't hurt to check. Or even just talk. Or, um. Listen. But not a statement! Just...just somebody to talk to. A log on fire's not really much of a distraction. Or...

"Never mind, forget I asked. I'll just, um. I'll see you later, I suppose."

Eliot listened to the voicemail and grimaced. He wasn't ready to do the spell yet. He had most of it put together, but he needed to find someone to check his metamath who wouldn't threaten him with a literal mace first.

He just . . . wouldn't answer John's voicemail until he had a solution. That seemed best. Yes.

Happy new year - I hope this is a good one.

Jon, curled up on his couch with awful videos, took a while to notice his phone, then made the effort to pick it up.

He frowned at the message, wondering if the Eye had decided to scramble his brain even more.

He sent off a message in reply.

I don't understand. That sounds rather messy and pointless. Why would you want to do anything with a watermelon other than eat it?

Voicemail

Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Re: Text to Eliot, after radio on Monday

Voicemail left for Eliot on Thursday

Re: Voicemail left for Eliot on Thursday

Text to Eliot, Sunday morning

Phone day