thedarkestpartofhollis¡:
His gaze shifted towards the line of the empty glasses that Eliot had in front of him and he smirked softly, shaking his head. Hollis remembered those days⌠In fact, in a way, Eliot kind of reminded Hollis of himself when he was in college. Generally care free, happy go lucky⌠All that had changed for him when he was turned but he really hoped that Eliot could hold onto it. It was important. And unless something truly terrible happened to the guy, he felt like there wasnât much that could shake Eliot.
Hollisâ eyes turned upwards towards the castle and he snorted a bit, âIt is odd, isnât it?â He asked, âI donât know how any of us didnât know about it before thisâŚâ It was all very perplexing. Not that Hollis expected to know everything about the supernatural world, but being on the council, he felt like he should have a bit of insider knowledge. That was far from the truth, however. In fact, he felt like the one member that was left out of the loop the most.
âWhat kind of emotional clarity do you need?â He asked Eliot with a quirk of his brow. Spotting the bartender, Hollis ordered himself a whiskey and shrugged his shoulders, âNot much is new with me.â He said, âJustâŚworking, really. I started my own law firm so thatâs taken up a lot of my time. Itâs an extremely stressful process.â Most days, Hollis didnât know why he was a lawyer. It was a thankless job. It was even more perplexing why he decided to open up his own firm.
Eliot gives a shrug with the âI dunnoâ sound. âI thought New Yorkers donât care about whatâs on the Staten Island, maybe thatâs it? Or is that a stereotype?â He has heard a bunch of jokes about how much New Yorkers hate or look down on or donât care for the Staten Island, and New Jersey. But then again, every place has their own weird reputation, which most of the time holds some grain of truth but not always 100% accurate. At least that was his impression after traveling from place to place for years. âGuess itâs some magic mumbo jumbo, I dunno, hiding a castle hereâ says the witch who doesnât know a thing about magically hiding a castle.
Hollis is like, the pack dad even aside from being the alpha, and lots of Eliotâs friends are werewolves. So he feels comfortable talking to him at least. âI dunno what kind of clarity are there. I just need to figure some shits out, like how I feel about things or... people.â He explains, still waiting for those drinks to kick in... âWow, a law firm? Thatâs huge! Damn, if I had my own law firm Iâd never stop talking about it.â That is so adult, and professional. Eliot canât even imagine managing a food truck (an idea pitched by Brycen) let alone a fucking law firm full of lawyers. Think of how many lightbulbs they could change, or however the joke usually goes. âI bet itâs stressful. Well, if you need a hand, like actually carrying and moving things around the office, or I dunno, contractors, I can help so you just let me know, yeah?â He wonders in twenty years-- Hollis is like, what, fifty?-- he could be as responsible and mature as Hollis... He doubts it, because he is sitting here drinking way too many emotion juice.
And then it hits him like a truck, all at once, the emotion juice. âOh, no.â Eliot leans forward on the bar, groaning. He feels angry and happy and sad and scared and excited all at once, like he watched one of those foreign films with subtitles with way too complicated ending and he doesnât get it. Definitely no clarity. âNope, I regret everything.â