March 24th, 2015


The Loft above Luke's, Tuesday evening

Eliot would never admit it, but this was actually one of the more comfortable "left tied to a chair" situations he'd ever been in. It was climate controlled, for one. And Hardison had actually tried to feed him (Eliot had almost managed to take him out with that pork rind; if it had been a Cheeto, he'd be out of here). He could do without Parker trying to convince him he was an alien robot, but other than that, it was pretty okay.

Well, other than that and the fact that he felt like he might pass out and die at any moment.

He'd managed to knock himself over trying to get out again when Gaunt sent out his little distress call -- not to go rush to the man's aid, to go punch him in the face once before the troopers showed up. Guy was an asshole, even if he was the one who got Eliot his necklace back. So now he was lying awkwardly on the floor, tied to a chair, breaking out into a cold sweat as his body tried to go into shock.

Hardison must've poisoned him.

Damned pork rinds.