February 20th, 2015


75 Godiva Street, Friday afternoon

So on the bright side, the unreasonable horniness of the last week was finally subsiding. No, wait, not the bright side. Eliot hated bright things. The dark and quiet and filled with painkillers side.

Eliot was very, very hungover. He blamed Pam. He wasn't entirely sure he remembered who Pam was, but he knew some woman had handed him a bottle of absinthe, and said woman seemed like a reasonable scapegoat for how Eliot felt right now.

He was pretty sure he'd made out with Vic. He'd definitely flirted around a bit. He'd drunk -- he didn't even know, but it was likely even Nate would be appalled.

Oh, and there was the whole thing where he went home with and slept with a vampire, last night. Navaan was not in the bed when he got up eventually to go let the dog out, so at least he got to avoid the whole morning after awkwardness, and while he remembered some teeth action, none of his hickeys broke the skin. So there was that, at least.

Right now he was working on cooking up a nice, messy omelette to put in his stomach along with the aspirin. It was taking a little while, since he refused to turn any lights on in his kitchen.

[ooc: Because there are at least two people on the island now who would want to poke the hungover Eliot. Open!]