[ Eliot is vaguely aware of the comfort of the bed as he wakes up. It's not that the bed he has at Stoker Park is bad, but it's definitely not as comfortable as this, and for a moment he hums happily and stretches out. He's in the process of pulling the luxurious comforter up around him when his eyes snap open.
This is not the right place.
For a brief (hopeful) moment, he thinks he's back in Whitespire, and that Sebastian or Margo will be there waiting for him. The hope fades as quick as it arrived. Still not home. Still in Mathias, maybe, but it's hard to see anything beyond the blur of blinding white out the window. Well, he thinks, if he has to be stuck here, this room is much more his speed.
Getting out of bed, Eliot's feet hit the cold floor. He looks through the drawers and sees no clothes, but his shoes are, at least there, so he slips them on and ties his robe closed. Loungewear chic, he guesses, as he looks in the mirror to fix his hair before leaving the room. ]
Quentin?
[ His voice resonates a little in the hall. Eliot pauses for a moment and thinks he hears someone downstairs. So that's where he goes, but the doors strike a familiar chord with him that he can't place. Not yet, anyway. ]
Anyone here?
[ Eliot sees himself into the kitchen. A little bit of rummaging comes up with something that makes him nearly cry. ] Oh thank God - [ He opens one of the bottles and, after a cursory smell, takes a long drink from it. ]
➼ free time for memories, places i'll never be
[ Now that Eliot's found the alcohol, he's more relaxed than he might have been otherwise. Sure, he's still stuck in his pajama pants and a robe, but it could be worse. Right? As long as he's got a glass in his hand and the glass isn't empty, he's willing to play along with whatever Mathias is up to currently.
He's found himself in the smaller of the two sitting rooms now that he's had a look around the mansion proper (and poked into the rooms that are open). The wall display has his attention. All the keys, and the maps that doesn't make any sense, all things considered. Eliot takes a sip of his drink, brows furrowed. ]
Do you think these were like ... Original plans for the town that they scrapped?
➼ locked doors (closed to Five)
[ Eliot isn't sure why he keeps going back to the locked doors. Maybe it's because he's finally figured out why they look familiar. The hall might be different, but the doors are almost eerily alike the ones he walked through before he found the room full of blood in his dreams. Maybe it's just the morbid curiosity in him that wants to see if he can find that place again.
Between some food and drinks and pouring over the maps, Eliot's made his way around the locked doors. His tried and true lock picking spell does shit all (and, no, he's not really surprised), and oddly enough, aggressively jiggling the door handles aggressively doesn't do anything, either. So it's with great frustration that he retreats back to the small sitting room - and gets an idea.
Sorry not sorry to whoever put all the effort in making the lovely display, but Eliot starts to take the skeleton keys down from the wall. He figures worst case scenario, it opens absolutely nothing here and then he's not really worse off than he started, right? ]
➼ day 024
[ Eliot is vaguely aware of the comfort of the bed as he wakes up. It's not that the bed he has at Stoker Park is bad, but it's definitely not as comfortable as this, and for a moment he hums happily and stretches out. He's in the process of pulling the luxurious comforter up around him when his eyes snap open.
This is not the right place.
For a brief (hopeful) moment, he thinks he's back in Whitespire, and that Sebastian or Margo will be there waiting for him. The hope fades as quick as it arrived. Still not home. Still in Mathias, maybe, but it's hard to see anything beyond the blur of blinding white out the window. Well, he thinks, if he has to be stuck here, this room is much more his speed.
Getting out of bed, Eliot's feet hit the cold floor. He looks through the drawers and sees no clothes, but his shoes are, at least there, so he slips them on and ties his robe closed. Loungewear chic, he guesses, as he looks in the mirror to fix his hair before leaving the room. ]
Quentin?
[ His voice resonates a little in the hall. Eliot pauses for a moment and thinks he hears someone downstairs. So that's where he goes, but the doors strike a familiar chord with him that he can't place. Not yet, anyway. ]
Anyone here?
[ Eliot sees himself into the kitchen. A little bit of rummaging comes up with something that makes him nearly cry. ] Oh thank God - [ He opens one of the bottles and, after a cursory smell, takes a long drink from it. ]
➼ free time for memories, places i'll never be
[ Now that Eliot's found the alcohol, he's more relaxed than he might have been otherwise. Sure, he's still stuck in his pajama pants and a robe, but it could be worse. Right? As long as he's got a glass in his hand and the glass isn't empty, he's willing to play along with whatever Mathias is up to currently.
He's found himself in the smaller of the two sitting rooms now that he's had a look around the mansion proper (and poked into the rooms that are open). The wall display has his attention. All the keys, and the maps that doesn't make any sense, all things considered. Eliot takes a sip of his drink, brows furrowed. ]
Do you think these were like ... Original plans for the town that they scrapped?
➼ locked doors (closed to Five)
[ Eliot isn't sure why he keeps going back to the locked doors. Maybe it's because he's finally figured out why they look familiar. The hall might be different, but the doors are almost eerily alike the ones he walked through before he found the room full of blood in his dreams. Maybe it's just the morbid curiosity in him that wants to see if he can find that place again.
Between some food and drinks and pouring over the maps, Eliot's made his way around the locked doors. His tried and true lock picking spell does shit all (and, no, he's not really surprised), and oddly enough, aggressively jiggling the door handles aggressively doesn't do anything, either. So it's with great frustration that he retreats back to the small sitting room - and gets an idea.
Sorry not sorry to whoever put all the effort in making the lovely display, but Eliot starts to take the skeleton keys down from the wall. He figures worst case scenario, it opens absolutely nothing here and then he's not really worse off than he started, right? ]