[action—June 16]isntyourfriendJune 29 2011, 11:21:59 UTC
[Okay. Today? Elliot is going to get shit done. He had exactly three weeks to finish this, and with the weather lately, he just hadn't had any luck. But no more of that! He was going to finish this damn thing whether he liked it or not.
...of course, that's easier said than done. He sits at the piano, looking over the pages that only have a few new notes written down on them since he'd started. He's quiet today (though he's been pretty quiet in general over the past few days), and focused only on what's in front of him.]
[Elliot tightens his grip around the pen in his hand when Leo speaks up. He's has been doing this a lot lately, hasn't he? Sneaking up on him and standing way too close for comfort... But he hasn't really said anything about it.]
I was until you interrupted me.
[Though he doesn't yell, he's still a bit harsh in his words. It's like he doesn't want to talk about it.]
[action—December 19]isntyourfriendDecember 26 2011, 00:57:40 UTC
[This evening, the draftees returned from their battle.
...or, at least, they were supposed to. Jack hadn't tried to hide from Elliot the fact that one of his housemates would not be returning, nor the fact that he hadn't even seen another one of them while they were away. If the news wasn't this frustrating for Elliot, he might have been grateful to Jack for telling him right away and not trying to hide it.
But it was frustrating. Very frustrating. Or perhaps "distressing" was a better word. Gilbert was dead. Another one of his brothers was dead. After (perhaps unfairly) shouting at Jack for being stupid and letting Gilbert do as he pleased, he stormed upstairs to check Vincent's room as well. If he hadn't been present on the draft, and he hadn't been present here, then...
He can't be surprised when the room is empty. He can't, but it doesn't make him any less angry. He stares into the empty room for only a short moment before he crosses the hall and enters his room, slamming the door shut as hard as he can.
[Wherever Elliot is, his servant will follow. Except that at the moment, he's pretty sure that he shouldn't simply barge in (not after that display of temper) so he'll choose to knock instead. Is the door locked?]
[It is, and there isn't an answer even though he knocks. More likely than not, he knows it's probably his servant, but... He doesn't want to talk to him. He doesn't want to talk to anyone.]
[Nothing. Usually, Leo would barge in anyway, but this time, he pauses. And doesn't.
Somewhere in the span of time after this and before Elliot opens his door (assuming that he ever does), he acquires a book and sits himself quite neatly on the top of the staircase, right beside Elliot's door. A blanket trails on the floor on his shoulders and he's reading; it's not quite a comfortable place to sit, but he doesn't quite care either.]
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...of course, that's easier said than done. He sits at the piano, looking over the pages that only have a few new notes written down on them since he'd started. He's quiet today (though he's been pretty quiet in general over the past few days), and focused only on what's in front of him.]
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Is that what you've been working on?
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I was until you interrupted me.
[Though he doesn't yell, he's still a bit harsh in his words. It's like he doesn't want to talk about it.]
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There hasn't been much progress.
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...or, at least, they were supposed to. Jack hadn't tried to hide from Elliot the fact that one of his housemates would not be returning, nor the fact that he hadn't even seen another one of them while they were away. If the news wasn't this frustrating for Elliot, he might have been grateful to Jack for telling him right away and not trying to hide it.
But it was frustrating. Very frustrating. Or perhaps "distressing" was a better word. Gilbert was dead. Another one of his brothers was dead. After (perhaps unfairly) shouting at Jack for being stupid and letting Gilbert do as he pleased, he stormed upstairs to check Vincent's room as well. If he hadn't been present on the draft, and he hadn't been present here, then...
He can't be surprised when the room is empty. He can't, but it doesn't make him any less angry. He stares into the empty room for only a short moment before he crosses the hall and enters his room, slamming the door shut as hard as he can.
He's so tired of this ( ... )
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Somewhere in the span of time after this and before Elliot opens his door (assuming that he ever does), he acquires a book and sits himself quite neatly on the top of the staircase, right beside Elliot's door. A blanket trails on the floor on his shoulders and he's reading; it's not quite a comfortable place to sit, but he doesn't quite care either.]
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