~~Inspired by an ask submitted by @magical-retales ~~
Face claims in order from top-left to bottom-right:
Viggo Mortensen as Grover; Minnie Driver as Clara; Judi Dench as Alice
Tim Curry as Enoch; Adrien Brody as Eli; Elizabeth Debicki as Emilia
x~x~x~x
The Fawcetts are a clan primarily made up of Ravenclaws. They reside in Ottery St. Catchpole, a stone’s throw away from other well-known magical families like the Diggorys and the Weasleys. Like their neighbors, they are open-minded about magical ancestry and progressive when it comes to Beast and Being rights, but what sets them apart is how passionate they are about academic and societal achievement. While the Diggorys put their family first and the Weasleys put what’s morally right first, the Fawcetts believe that one should always strive for the very best and never rest on one’s laurels when it comes to anything. In contrast to the Diggorys and Weasleys, as well, the Fawcetts are “new blood,” so to speak, among prominent magical families, with their most famous members, Reginald and Percival Fawcett, having made a respectful name for themselves as head of the Departments of Magical Law Enforcement and the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, respectively, back in the mid-1800′s. Therefore high expectations were placed on Reginald’s only son Grover and -- by extension -- on Grover’s children.
Grover Fawcett soon enough honored his father Reginald’s legacy by becoming a well-respected member of the Minister for Magic’s support staff. The sudden death of his wife Clara Diggory-Fawcett, however, crippled Grover significantly, leaving him feeling ill-equipped to look after three young children on his own -- particularly his middle child, who had started expressing disinterest in following the family legacy or in pursuing academics much at all. Grover thus enlisted the support of his mother Alice, a very stern and conservative woman who hoped to “groom” Grover’s children into a proper gentleman and ladies who could build on their grandfather, great-uncle, and father’s successes. Unfortunately, that middle child -- the one who would eventually be known the world over as the comedic film actor Eli “Funnyman” Fawcett -- was a square peg being shoved into a circular hole, and no matter what, he would just not satisfy his grandmother’s high expectations.
This isn’t to say there was no happiness in the Fawcett home, after Clara’s death -- in fact, one could say that in those days, the child that would become known as Eli, who preferred to just be called “Fawcett” in those days, was the sunshine that kept the Fawcett home from becoming too cold, dreary, and serious. His jokes never failed to make his brother Enoch cackle with laughter, even when he was at his most anxious. His dancing was so expert that even his younger sister Emilia, who he never saw eye-to-eye with, always forced him to dance with her at parties. His father always spoke so fondly of how his second-born child’s hazel eyes would shine just like his mother’s. And even overly critical, stern Grandma Fawcett couldn’t not crack a smile, whenever he played the piano.
Despite these little pieces of joy, though, the pressure on that second child became heavier and heavier over time, making it more and more difficult for him to keep that smile on and soldier through. When he finally left Hogwarts with no NEWTs and no career path forward in the Wizarding World, it was made very clear to that child that would become Eli Fawcett that he was a disappointment to his family and that the only way he’d be able to make himself “useful” to them was through a good marriage. Surely his sunny disposition would be enough to net him and his family a successful match, at least! For the second-born Fawcett, however, that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Without a second thought, or even much thought in the first place, he packed a bag and boarded the first boat out of England to the United States, prepared to make his own life in an entirely new country and -- ultimately -- in an entirely new world, living largely like a Muggle.
To this day, a decade or so later, Eli has not seen his family in person. He remains in written and telephone correspondence and occasional Floo contact with Enoch, who even now tries to mend the broken bonds between his younger sibling and the rest of the family, but otherwise, Eli hears very little from his family. And in return, the Fawcetts -- again, aside from Enoch -- rarely talk about Grover’s “delinquent second daughter,” out of shame both from how he’s reflected badly on them in polite society and from how they ultimately know it was their fault that he’s lost to them.
fancasting Adrien Brody as Eli // encouraged by @kathrynalicemc and @sirfluffig
“You'll be happy to be there,
Dancing through life, down at the Ozdust,
If only because dust is what we come to!
Nothing matters but knowing nothing matters!
It's just life...so keep dancing through...”
~“Dancing Through Life” from Wicked
x~x~x~x
It was strange, being a No-Maj in the 1920′s and 30′s. Obviously it was odd enough to find out that there was an entire magical society hidden from everyone, including America’s government...but it was practically impossible to read the name “Fawcett” so much among the ranks of both the MACUSA and the British Ministry of Magic and not immediately think of Eli Fawcett, the famous Muggle actor. Little did many of those students from Ilvermorny and other American schools realize that that was not just a coincidence -- for Eli Fawcett was indeed born into the well-regarded magical family of the same name, as the middle of three children. He was also the most popular and well-liked of his siblings at school. Eli’s family, however, never approved of their child or what he valued -- being largely comprised of overachieving Ravenclaw alumni, they never much liked how their “daughter” refused to dress properly or put much focus on his studies. But Eli (who at school encouraged everyone to just call him “Fawcett,” rather than the name he was given at birth) just never saw the value in getting straight O’s, especially in the face of making someone else smile. He knew he could change the world far more with a positive attitude than by resigning himself to a life he’d never choose for himself...and so post-Hogwarts, after only receiving one OWL and no NEWTs, he impulsively packed up everything he owned in a suitcase and headed for America, with the thought of starting his life over. The path Eli’s choice started him down ended in Hollywood, and now this mediocre student has turned the heads of people all over the world with his immense talent for dancing, stunts, and slapstick comedy, as well as his winning charm and smile. He is a true performer, determined to make other people happy -- because it’s truly the only thing in the world that’s ever made him feel happy.
“A new start --
That's the thing I need to give me new heart...
Half a chance in life to find a new part --
Just a simple role that I can play...”
~“A New Life” from Jekyll & Hyde
x~x~x~x
edited with help from Lunapic // original background image here
x~x~x~x
Eli Fawcett had never been the sort to think things through. He was a very “live-in-the-moment” sort of person, even in those days before he’d settled on the first name “Eli” for himself and was solely called “Fawcett” by most of the people around him. It was something his best school friend, the much more composed and logical Ravenclaw Cayde Burke @sirfluffig, used to chide him for -- that Eli fit the well-worn stereotype of the meathead Gryffindor who prefers to barrel right on through rather than use their brains. But Eli would only ever shrug this off with self-deprecating humor.
“Hey, we all know you’re the brains in this outfit, Cay,” he’d laugh. “The last thing I’d want to do is step on your toes. Unless you want to get up off your rump and come dance with me -- this is a dilly of a tune!”
Even so, just about nobody expected the second-eldest Fawcett child to just up and leave England without a word to anyone, post-Hogwarts. Nobody did -- even if they really probably should have.
Eli had been a “slacker” sort at school. His lack of interest in traditional academics combined with his undiagnosed dyslexia made it that even if he had actively tried to conform to his father and grandmother’s aspirations for him, he probably never would’ve gotten straight O’s the way his older brother Enoch and his younger sister Emilia did. And since Eli truly was too carefree to really ever buckle down and “get serious” about anything, whether his studies or his future, it was inevitable that he earned no NEWTS, after his seventh year. It was the final nail in the coffin for Eli’s father Grover’s dreams that his second-born would join him at the Ministry as Enoch already had, and it prompted Eli’s strict, overbearing grandmother Alice Fawcett to propose another way to secure a successful, stable future for Eli.
“The Potters have a son who’s just joined the Wizengamot -- a Prefect and Head Boy in his day, graduated from the same house as our Eliza, just six years prior,” said Grandma Fawcett. “The Potters are a well-esteemed family -- wealthy, as well, with a lovely home -- and their son stands to inherit all of it, whenst his father passes. Rumor even says that young Henry recently suffered a most grievous rejection by an unknown sweetheart. Just think of it! Who but our Eliza would be better to bring the man some much-needed sunshine?”
So a meeting was arranged the very next weekend between the Potters and the Fawcetts. Eli did indeed notice how deeply unhappy Henry Potter was -- he seemed both very absent-minded and actively disinterested in the proceedings. Eli was never one to like seeing someone frown, and so, brushing his freshly cut hair out of his eyes, he decided right then and there to play a jaunty tune on the piano to cheer the slightly older man up.
“Meet me in St. Louis, Louis!
Meet me at the fair!
Don't tell me the lights are shining
Any place but there...
We will dance the hoochie-koochie --
I will be your tootsie wootsie,
If you will meet me in St. Louis, Louis...
Meet me at the fair!”
It most certainly was not a tune to his grandmother’s liking, and admittedly Eli hated how high his voice sounded when he sang it, but the Potters quite enjoyed it, all the same. Henry was oddly quiet during the whole performance -- it was only when it was over that he invited Eli out onto the front porch of the Potter home. Eli, rather blindsided, tried to lightheartedly turn down the request, only to be not-so-gently pushed to follow the other man by both his father and grandmother. And so rather uncomfortably Eli followed Henry Potter outside, suddenly very painfully aware of why exactly they’d paid this “house call” in the first place.
When they arrived on the Potters’ front porch, Henry lit a cigarette. He was a bit startled when Eli took one out of the box Henry had opened himself and asked to borrow a light. Faintly bemused, Henry conjured another tiny flame with his wand, and Eli took a long drag. The sight of the short-haired “lady” smoking so casually actually seemed to take some of the stiffness out of Henry’s shoulders.
“Good to know I’m not the only one who’s ill at ease,” he said lowly.
Eli was having trouble keeping his stomach from squirming. He tried very hard to keep an off-hand smile on.
“Is that what this communicates?” he asked idly. “And here I’ve only ever been able to indulge in these during social events...s’pose I’m a bit out-of-step.”
Henry, however, looked rather serious.
“I assume you were well-aware of why our parents arranged this meeting between us?” the young man said lowly.
Eli’s smile faltered, but he tried to keep it on anyway, even as his gaze drifted away.
“...To say I was aware, prior to your invitation, would be a bit of a stretch. ‘Am’ is more correct.”
He put on the brightest grin he could.
“...Begging your indulgence -- I’m something of a ‘dim bulb,’ by reputation, and I forget sometimes that it’s not completely unwarranted, when it comes to such things...”
Henry seemed startled by this. Then his expression actually softened.
“...So you mean to say you played that song just to cheer me up?”
Eli blushed a bit as he brought a hand up behind his neck, rubbing it awkwardly. “Well, sure -- couldn’t very well leave you drowning in the blues if I could help it, could I?”
For the first time, Henry’s mouth spread into a smile.
“You’re a kind sort, Miss Fawcett.”
“Fawcett,” Eli corrected before he could stop himself. His smile twitched ever-so-slightly as he forced it into a more self-deprecating expression. “...Formality isn’t my scene. Just ‘Fawcett’ is jake.”
Henry looked confused, but he took it in stride all the same. “...All right.”
He moved to a pair of chairs set up on the far end of the porch, away from the windows, and sat down, before he silently beckoned for her to sit in the one beside him. Still faintly uneasy, Eli slowly lowered himself down into the chair.
“Don’t worry,” said Henry. “It should be harder for them to eavesdrop on us from here, as long as we keep our voices down.”
Eli cocked his eyebrows.
“M -- Fawcett,” Henry said slowly, “I am deeply sorry...but my heart...belongs to another. I have no intention to marry you.”
Eli’s shoulders felt like they were suddenly pounds lighter. His head fell back as his lips spread into a huge, relieved grin.
“Oh, thank Merlin,” he breathed.
Henry immediately relaxed as well. His lips spread into a relieved, self-conscious smile.
“She and I may be separated for reasons beyond our control,” he explained sadly, “but she is my one true love and soulmate. I would dishonor both myself and her if I wed anyone else.”
Eli beamed. “Well, then, you should marry her! Weddings can be lovely and fun affairs, I’ve heard, when the feelings are sincere. Reckon it’d make those horrid wedding clothes almost bearable,” he added jokingly.
Henry gave a soft laugh, before he smiled a bit more fully.
“I am grateful for your understanding,” he said, his modest voice very warm and sincere. “Truly, you are a very good woman, Elizabeth Fawcett.”
“Oh, Merlin’s taint, please,” Eli said in an overdramatically nauseous tone of voice. “Fawcett only! I hear my full name and all I hear is dear old Grandma, scolding the state of my penmanship!”
Henry laughed fully. It made Eli smile that bit brighter, to see it, after how unhappy he’d clearly been.
Henry and Eli talked for about a half-hour more out there on the porch, smoking the rest of their cigarettes. Once they had finished, the two headed back inside together.
“Thank you, Fawcett,” Henry said, his eyes sparkling warmly. “Your company and counsel truly have been a joy.”
He extended a hand to Eli. Sensing the man had intended to kiss his hand, Eli instead took it and shook it. Although faintly taken aback, Henry beamed that bit more broadly.
“I shall follow your advice,” he said softly, his smile very bright. “I shall marry my Ida, one day. Whatever the squalls -- no matter how much time I must wait.”
“Cheers,” Eli said with a grin.
Henry added his other hand on top of Eli’s so he could shake the other man’s hand in both of his.
“And I hope you shall know just as true of a happiness yourself, one day,” he said warmly. “The joy of being loved, for everything you are.”
Eli’s smile flickered slightly, betraying surprise and something oddly pensive. Then, like a flower, his expression had bloomed into a warmer expression than ever -- one that made his slightly sleepy-looking eyes sparkle as he clasped Henry Potter’s hands in both of his and shook them in return.
“‘Everything?’” he joked. “Even the rancid stench emanating off every pair of shoes I own? That might be a bit beyond my reach. But hey -- shoot for the moon, and you fall among the stars, right?”
Henry beamed and nodded.
The Potters and Fawcetts were incredibly disappointed when they learned that Henry had not proposed courtship to Eli, while they’d been together on the porch. They’d heard Henry laughing and thought for sure that it meant they were “getting along nicely,” but Henry pretty quickly corrected the record, and even made his intentions clearer to his parents about where his romantic loyalty lay. The Potters soon enough came to accept his decision -- but Grandma Fawcett was not happy. She was convinced that Eli had “sabotaged himself” in his meeting with Henry, so as to disobey their wishes and avoid a proposal, and when they returned home to Ottery St. Catchpole that evening, she tore into Eli with that very accusation.
“By all accounts, Henry Potter had given up all pretenses of ever proposing to that woman!” spat Alice. “What did you say to him?”
Eli raised his eyebrows in mock innocence. “What did I say to him? Why, I told him to marry her, of course.”
Grover’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. “You what?”
“If he loves her, I say go for it,” said Eli lightly. “So she’s set to marry Arcturus Black -- big deal. Nothing final yet -- she could still ditch that tosser, if she wanted. Maybe she and Henry can run off and elope -- that could be a fun way to spend a Saturday...”
Alice’s face had flushed a very dark scarlet and she mouthed wordlessly for a moment, clearly having trouble articulating her anger properly. Grover looked incredibly dismayed.
“Eliza, your grandmother and I specifically selected Henry Potter with the expectation that you would be his intended!” he said, trying to keep his voice level despite the frustration and anxiety in it.
Eli gave an overdramatic shrug.
“Whoops,” he said with a dry smile. “Oh well -- guess I’ll just have to throw rice at the wedding instead.”
“Eliza, this is no laughing matter!” said Grover, his voice growing a bit louder and shakier. “That man was going to be your future -- he was going to provide a home for you -- a stable income and a family -- ”
“Mm, tempting,” said Eli, his voice laced with considerable dry humor, “but the man’s clearly already taken, and I’m not particularly interested in playing the role of anyone’s mistress.” He laughed brightly. “Say, I know, why not try to hook me up with Septimus Weasley next? Then maybe he’ll finally nuts up enough to finally propose to Cedrella Black -- ”
It was the absolute, faintly mocking flippancy Eli spoke with and his complete inability to be serious that finally pushed Alice over the edge.
Smack.
She’d slapped Eli across the face. It was a very weak little smack, one that was the equivalent of getting splashed in the face, but it still echoed loudly.
“Mother!” Grover gasped.
Alice herself seemed similarly mortified. Her eyes had gone very wide and upset and she’d started to shake, partially out of shame, partly out of frustration, but mostly out of anxiety.
“You...ungrateful child...” she rasped. She sounded close to tears. “You thoughtless, arrogant thing! Are you truly so selfish? Have you given absolutely no thought whatsoever to how much your idleness has hampered your prospects? Are you truly so ignorant, to not see how many opportunities you’ve squandered, by not applying yourself the way Enoch and Emilia did? Do you not have any concept of how much you drain and drain from this family, with no chance of replenishment or return? Your one asset -- your greatest, most shining aspect has been always your amiability! You have never been smart, or clever, or sensible, or beautiful, but your cheer and talent have always earned you favor. It’s always earned you admirers -- you’ve always charmed the men around you, even when you’ve been at your most improper. That amiability is now the one thing that could win you the hand of a respectable husband -- to save you from a life of destitution! And yet all you can do, even now, is LAUGH about it!”
“They say all comedy is borne from misery,” Eli said very lightly.
If someone who knew Eli well, such as Enoch or Cayde, had been there, they surely would’ve taken note of the noticeable, almost bitter edge to Eli’s voice, when he said this. But Grover and Alice took no heed.
“Enough, Eliza,” Grover shut him down.
His face, in contrast to his mother’s, had gone very pale and he clutched his second-born child’s shoulder in a very tight, shaking grip.
“...Stop antagonizing your grandmother,” he said very lowly. His voice was far less harsh than his mother’s, to the point that it was almost beseeching, but deathly serious. “Eliza...your future is too important, for you to not take seriously. The next time I select a candidate for you, you will not hamper the match. And you will consider each candidate seriously as a future husband and father of your children. Do you understand me?”
Eli’s mouth was curled up, but the smile held no joy at all. His eyes had gone very narrow and dark, and he’d gone very quiet. The lack of response unsettled both Grover and Alice.
“Eliza,” Grover prompted Eli again, his voice sounding a bit more beseeching than he meant. “Do you understand me?”
Eli’s eyes drifted absently up onto the ceiling. He clearly had decided to ignore the question outright. The rude silence made Alice lash out a bit, harshly tapping his knuckles lightly with her cane.
“Young lady, you will speak when spoken to!” she barked strictly, but her voice betrayed her anxiety.
Eli’s eyes drifted down to his grandmother, darkening still further. Then, very slowly, his lips curled up in an even wider, cold smile.
“Bark, bark,” he said airily. “Bow, wow.”
He turned his back on his father and grandmother, his smile spreading into a white-teethed grin as he removed the ornamental hair comb from his short hair with as much grace as a gardener pulling up weeds.
“Good boy, Fawcett,” he said in a very cool imitation of his grandmother’s voice. “Good speak.”
Grover opened his mouth to speak again, but Eli had already cut him off in a low whisper.
“I heard you the first two times, Dad. I may not have much in regards to brains...but my ears work fine.”
And with this, he strode purposefully up the stairs, up to his room, and slammed the door shut with an odd amount of force.
That very night Eli packed up everything he could into a small suitcase and left, never to return. He hopped a spot on the next ocean liner to America, sailing off to the New World with nothing but his paltry savings to sustain him until he could find work.
And yet when he stood at the railing, looking out toward the endless sparkling blue sea, Eli found himself smiling more easily than he had in a very long time...perhaps because, in that moment, the smile wasn’t for anybody else. It was just for himself.
“And I hope you shall know just as true of a happiness yourself, one day. The joy of being loved, for everything you are.”
Henry Potter was chasing his own happiness, Eli thought -- why the hell shouldn’t he? Sure, it was probably going to be hard sometimes, and he wasn’t all that smart, and people were probably going to figure out he wasn’t what they thought at first glance...and obviously the rainclouds would come back eventually, and he would be reminded how very insignificant he truly was and how much that happiness or unhappiness he might feel wouldn’t matter, to much of anyone...
But that could wait. That could all wait, for now. For right now, Eli felt like all of the chains that had been weighing him down for so many years had been broken open. He felt light, and nimble, and free...felt better about himself than he had since he and Cayde had fallen out, last year.
Oc Asks Game: 2 and 23 for all of your MCs? If that's ok?
Whew! Okay, let's see...
Tea, coffee, hot chocolate or other?
Carewyn: Coffee! Like her good friend Talbott, she's a coffee addict to the extent her other half Orion tries to wean her off of it. Her favorite blend is a caramel macchiato, but she'll also drink it black in a pinch.
Jacob: Hot chocolate. Jacob is a chocoholic and he'll never pass up a good hot chocolate.
Lane: English Breakfast tea.
Erik: Coffee, black as his soul. LMAO just kidding. 🤣
Ana: Good old-fashioned milk, specifically skim, since it's what her mum raised her with in a misguided attempt to help "curb" her weight. She also loves orange and (thanks to her boo Charlie Copper's influence) lemon mimosas.
Farid: Juice!! This boy loves juice, especially orange juice, though he also becomes very fond of pumpkin juice while staying at Hogwarts. Also green tea and almond milk.
Ru: They'll drink most anything that isn't too sweet (they really don't like chocolate, for instance), but in the mornings they tend to like apple juice best.
Ed: Any kind of sweet coffee brew, especially if it's got lots of foam. He actually becomes rather fond of trying out new brews at Muggle coffee shops just for kicks, though one of his favorites so far is the white chocolate mocha. He also loves hot chocolate, especially white hot chocolate.
Desi: Tea! Earl Gray tea is her absolute favorite thing to have in the morning, alongside a French croissant.
Eli: Butterbeer, though after moving to the States and living as a Muggle, he also became very fond of root beer and Coca Cola. (Eli honestly has never had much respect for what drinks/foods belong to which times of the day, especially given how bonkers his schedule can be with rehearsals and the parties he'll stay up all night for, so yes, he will drink soda "for breakfast," so to speak.)
(And Jackson and Bat are here!)
What is your character’s favourite food and who cooks it best?
Carewyn: Potato crisps! Walkers makes good ones.
Jacob: As mentioned before, chocolate! As a kid he loved Cadbury eggs and Yorkie Bars, but as an adult traveling the world, he falls in love with Richart and Ghirardelli chocolate.
Lane: Pikelets! She learned how to make them at home early on and she's always loved making them for her bairns Carewyn and Jacob.
Erik: Cinnamon coffee cake! He also likes Red Hot candies.
Ana: Fresh bread, right out of the oven. Her favorite kind is German brown bread.
Farid: Curry! All kinds. One of his favorite recipes to make himself is a lamb curry with chopped apple, onion, potatoes, and golden raisins, as well as a bunch of spices.
Jackson: Crepes, specifically with strawberries and powdered sugar! He's become very fond of making them in the mornings for both himself and Monty.
Bat: This is going to sound so cliche if you know about Bat's love of Christmas...but figgy pudding. No one can make it like his mum used to!
Ru: Aaaaaaapples. This water horse will eat most anything, but they love apples. Apple pie and apple turnovers are their friend -- it doesn't take long for their other half Estrid @thatravenpuffwitch to figure this out, so she'll sometimes surprise them by going to the market and picking some up from time to time.
Ed: Cheesecake. Ed loves most pastries, but cheesecake is his OTL and it doesn't matter how cheap it is, he will always indulge in some. When he first tried Mrs. Weasley's cheesecake, he went very quiet as he ate the whole thing without stopping and he was grinning and flushed like a happy schoolboy for the entire rest of the day, he was so happy.
Desi: Croissants! Though while traveling she also tries and takes a liking to cornish pasties.
Eli: Custard. He also takes a liking to Jello, pudding, and meatballs, while living in the States.
Hey all! This is just a quick drabble fleshing out the relationship between my Fantastic Beasts boy, Eli, with his older brother, Enoch! Enoch is the only family member Eli has stayed in touch with after leaving home (you can read more about why Eli did that here, if you wish), and Eli is likewise the family member Enoch is most protective of and openly affectionate toward, to the point that unlike the rest of the Fawcett family, Enoch uses Eli’s proper pronouns and chosen name, even though he has trouble fully understanding his younger brother’s experience sometimes. The title is taken from the Kodaline song Brother, which I think really sums up these two and their relationship really well:
“We've taken different paths
And travelled different roads --
I know we'll always end up on the same one when we're old,
And when you're in the trenches,
And you're under fire, I will cover you.”
Hope you guys like this! Please consider liking/reblogging/commenting if you do, and I hope you all have a lovely night! 💗
x~x~x~x
When Eli finished with rehearsal, it was getting dark out. That was really the only reason he knew it was early evening -- his biological clock was all out of whack, thanks to how late he’d stayed up reading the script for his next project the previous night, only to have to immediately get up and go on autopilot into the studio for the usual stunt practice.
Guess this is what happens when you get assigned to a project that’s set to be a talkie, he thought airily. The blokes in charge use you as a silent recurring joke.
Honestly, it wasn’t too bad of an idea, Eli granted. The idea of this constantly put-upon guy in the background all throughout this big and epic buddy cop picture was objectively pretty funny. It was just a bit of a shame that working on this picture was making it so he couldn’t work on the new Cole Porter project.
But hey, they need a tough, macho leading man for that, thought Eli amusedly. You know -- a meathead, who can still dance. Maybe it’s a compliment that they passed you over -- they only think you’re moderately stupid.
He laughed to himself as he unlocked the door to his apartment.
The space was quiet, as always -- there had been points he’d considered getting a pet (he’d even playfully written to Cayde that he was thinking of choosing the grumpiest cat he could find and naming it “Purrke,” in reference to him), but his irregular schedule really didn’t allow for it. There being nothing and no one else living in the place, however, was all the more reason for the sudden voice that called out into the open space all the more jarring.
“Eli? Eli, you home?”
Eli rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling in tired amusement as he quickly shut the door behind him.
“At least listen a touch first, to make sure I’m alone!” he called ahead. “I live amongst Muggles, remember?”
He shrugged off his coat and hung it up on the coat tree by the door.
“Sorry,” the voice said a bit sheepishly. “I was just glad to catch you. I’ve been waiting by the grate for a while now, just listening out, in case you came home at a decent hour.”
Eli’s grin spread. “Seriously? Oh, come on, Enoch, it’s not even my birthday!”
Once he’d taken off his fedora and hung it up too, he strolled into the sitting room. His brother Enoch’s neatly groomed head was sitting in the fireplace, his eyes taking in the state of the room before quickly snapping up to Eli as he smiled.
“What can I say?” he said pleasantly. “I missed my little brother. He has gone quite a way aways...”
“Meh, only about 5,000 miles or so,” Eli said with a broad grin as he flopped down in the armchair in front of the fire, his long legs lackadaisically dangling off the arm. “Not too far that Floo Powder’s stopped working, has it?”
He cocked an eyebrow.
“Gotta ask, though -- you were waiting around for me in case I got home at a decent hour? What bloody time is it over there?”
“4 AM,” Enoch said with a shrug. “Had to get up early for work -- I actually start in a little less than an hour...”
Eli snorted amusedly. “And here I thought my work hours were bonkers. The Auror Department’s gonna run you ragged, bro.”
“Oh, pish posh! I like morning shifts,” Enoch said with a good-natured smile. “Gives me more time to spend with Dottie in the evenings, once she finishes up her volunteer work...”
“Still working with the Board of Governors, then?” asked Eli. “Did Dottie go along with my suggestion and propose the creation of a music department with Peeves the Poltergeist as its instructor?”
“She took part of your suggestion, anyway,” Enoch said as he bit back a laugh.
Eli grinned. “Oh yeah? Well, I shall take that as a full victory on my part, considering how serious Mrs. Fawcett gets about this stuff.”
“...Yes...”
Enoch’s smile became a bit less amused and more thoughtful.
“...I do wish you could meet Dottie, fully,” he confessed. “We’d be happy to host you at our house, if you came home for a visit...”
“A bit hard for me to stay at your place while also ‘coming home,’ No-No,” said Eli with a cheeky grin, “considering I’m home right now.”
Enoch’s eyebrows came together, clearly upset. “I mean home as in here, Eli. Here in England. I know you’re happy in the States...but we’d all be really happy, to have you home -- ”
“‘All?’” Eli repeated in a very light, cool tone of voice.
Enoch bit the inside of his cheek. “...Yes. All of us.”
“Even Grandma Fawcett?” Eli challenged him with a slight, cool smile. “Has she really forgiven me, for not marrying Henry Potter and popping out ten messy-haired children with him? Oh, and Emilia -- reckon she’s probably still spitting my name out from between her teeth like poison at every opportunity too...”
“Eli, really,” Enoch said in a rather tense voice. He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before continuing. “...They are angry with you for having left. Of course they are. But that doesn’t mean they don’t miss you.”
His green eyes had drifted down to the floor.
“...It’s getting scarier here,” he admitted. “Grindelwald has been gathering support from all over, and...well, now Muggles in Germany are moving toward a second Great War of their own too. Dad’s admitted that you’re probably safer there than just about anywhere else, and I think he’s kind of grateful for it...but that doesn’t mean your absence isn’t still felt.”
Eli cocked his eyebrows. “Don’t you mean ‘Eliza’s’ absence? I do believe that’s who Dad kept asking for, on his last phone call. Thanks for helping him with it, by the way -- don’t reckon he would’ve tried it, if you hadn’t encouraged him...”
“He was afraid you’d ignore his owls,” Enoch said in an oddly sharp voice.
“It’s a crime here to open mail addressed to someone else, No-No.”
“Eli, you know Dad is still having trouble with you being a man now. He’s used to thinking of you as Eliza -- he has a lot of good memories from when you were Eliza. He’s just having trouble accepting that you’re somebody else now. Even if he has an amazing, talented son now, that doesn’t mean he isn’t still grieving a daughter.”
“Don’t go too overboard, Enoch, I know Dad’s still bummed out I didn’t join the Ministry like you and Emilia did like a good little kid,” Eli said, his voice very light but oddly patient. “I appreciate the support from your end...but I know that’s the only place it’s coming from -- you.”
Enoch’s green eyes were pulsing with emotion. “That’s not true. Dad loves you. Emilia and Grandma Fawcett, they both love you. Even after everything, they still do.”
“Then it’s on them to reach out, not you,” Eli said in an oddly matter-of-fact way.
He paused, considering his brother with something strangely gentle.
“...Enoch...you’re a great bloke. Easily one of the best I’ve ever met -- smart and strong and selfless to a fault. But you’re not Superman. If nothing else, you’d probably look pretty dorky in that spandex.”
He inclined his head to his brother, his hazel eyes shining with something a bit harder.
“Stop taking all these burdens on your shoulders just because everyone else won’t do it themselves.”
Enoch looked like he wanted to argue, but after looking into Eli’s eyes, he could tell that he wasn’t going to get anywhere. Deflating visibly, Enoch closed his eyes as he sighed lowly through his nose.
“...Eli...I know you’ve been hurt. I know it in my head and in my heart -- how could you not have been, for you to have left us without a word? Without even talking to me first? I don’t understand what you’ve gone through, and I probably never will, even if you did ever decide to explain it all to me. ...But I also know that since you left...our family’s been a shadow of what it used to be. There’s no laughter, no levity, at family gatherings. It’s stiff and distant -- completely formal, with everyone walking on eggshells the entire time. There has been no music at home, since you left. Grandma Fawcett hasn’t let anyone touch the piano, not even to clean it. All because the thought of your absence hurts her and Dad as much as if you had died, the day you left home.”
Eli listened, his expression oddly detached. His eyes drifted away, up onto the wall where he’d hung up one of his promotional pictures.
“In a way, I did,” he said lowly.
“And yet you’re still here,” Enoch said emphatically.
He sighed again.
“Look...I understand that you can’t go back to the way things were. I know you weren’t happy that way. And seeing how free you are now -- how well you’ve done for yourself and found your own path, in your own way...I would never want you to go back to how you were. I felt freer, after I left home too. Dottie is my freedom, the way your job in Hollywood has been. Just...keep in mind, the War’s put a lot of things in perspective, for some folks. Reminded us all what’s really important -- that life is fleeting and it can’t be taken for granted. And when everything’s so scary...when you’re so afraid that any day might be your last...sometimes the only thing that can help you soldier through are those little happy things -- those little giggles, those bright smiles.”
He gave his younger brother a weak smile.
“...A world like this...makes people like you mean so much more.”
Eli considered his brother for a very long moment. He looked almost uneasy -- as if he wasn’t entirely sure how to respond. His gaze fell down to his hand as he reached into a box on the side table, took out a cigarette, and lit it. Once he’d taken a long drag, he forced on another smile.
“...Well, hey, someone’s got to keep you from getting too gloomy, right? Can’t imagine Dottie-kins would’ve found you half so attractive if you hadn’t snorted butterbeer out your nose during your first meeting.”
Enoch burst out laughing. “Attractive? Come off it -- I completely embarrassed myself and you know it!”
“Hey, dames appreciate a man who can make them laugh!” Eli said teasingly.
Despite this, though, "Funnyman Fawcett’s” smile was fonder and more sincere than it was with just about anyone else.
“Well, well. If it isn’t Eli Fawcett. Rough night? You look like shit.” Iolanthe chuckled as she saw the state he was in.
“Anyways, I have a question for you, if you would be so kind. What does magic mean to you? You’ve picked a career in the muggle world so you must not practice it much, unlike myself,” she gestured to the air without a wand and a couple small balls of light illuminated the dark room, gently floating and orbiting each other.
[Cue a big, cheesy, cocky grin.]
Eli: “(cheerfully) Morning, Lanny! I do, don’t I?”
Damn it, my head hurts…maybe if I just spike this pear juice with the tiniest bit of gin, it’ll take the edge off…
Eli: “(still grinning) But hey, at least at the premiere, I didn’t have to eat any. Something I can’t say, for all the critics present…”
“Only an absolute imbecile would try to cast ‘Funnyman Fawcett’ as a leading man” — eat those shitty words of yours and enjoy it, you chatter-mags…
[Eli takes another bite of egg toast, considering the question.]
Eli: “…Magic’s smashing. But it’s a talent, just like any other — something some people have potential for, and nurture, and profit off of…while others don’t. It’s just like acting, or dancing, or singing, or playing the piano…or anything else, really.”
[His hazel eyes actually become a little smaller.]
Eli: “…The only problem is that a lot of people see our talent as something more: as something indicative of higher worth. Something that makes us better than other people, somehow. And yet even then, we’re only truly great if we use that talent in very particular ways and under certain guidelines that only those in power have much of any say in…”
[Eli reaches into his bathrobe pocket and fetches out his wand, waving it at the window so as to silently close the curtains and darken the room.]
Ahhh, that’s better.
Eli: “When I came to the States looking for work without my family name and reputation being a chip I could ‘cash in’ to get ahead, it wasn’t my magic that helped me earn enough to feed myself. It certainly helps, don’t get me wrong — but it’s the talents I’ve acquired through working alongside incredibly talented Muggles — pardon, No-Majs — ”
I will never get used to that word.
Eli: “ — that have helped me give back and do some real good for people…however small and significant it probably is, in the grand scheme.”
[Eli grins.]
Eli: “But hey, aren’t we all that, anyhow?”
[Rather than sound cynical, though, Eli only seems to sound sunnier than ever, saying it.]
If we’re all insignificant, then what must that say about all our pain, misfortunes, unhappiness?
[...Whoops. It seems someone’s fallen asleep on top of the Askbox. But who the heck is still asleep at quarter-to-twelve in the morning?
Answer: a lanky, dark-haired, long-nosed young man, whose suit is in disarray and whose eyes blink blearily as he starts to wake up. The faint sunlight peeping in through his window makes him shudder.]
Eli: “Ugh...”
[Yup. Definitely a hangover. He flops over, not really wanting to move at all, but just wanting to get away from the light. It hurts to think. What time is it? Once he sees the clock, he gives another moan.]
Shit. That late already? ...Well, I guess last night was pretty fun. Guess this is proper justice, for going on such a toot.
[The blurry memory of an austere boy with dark hair and a gaunt face dressed in a Ravenclaw tie @sirfluffig gave him a very tired, reproachful look, and Eli smiles a bit despite himself.]
Hey, the fun was good while it lasted.
[With a sigh, he lurches out of bed.]
Eli: “(mumbling) ...I need some fucking pear juice...”
[And a shower. A nice cold shower. It wouldn’t metabolize the alcohol any faster, but at least it might help him wake up.
Wasn’t there something his mundane was telling him she wanted him to do...?
Eli blinks tiredly, trying to focus, when his eyes find the Askbox he’d fallen asleep on.]
Oh right -- that thing.
[Eli puts on his best, bright smile and removes his askew tie as he tries to ignore the throbbing in his head.]
Eli: “Hey there, sheiks and shebas! The name’s Eli Fawcett.”
Fuck, my head hurts.
Eli: “(without skipping a beat) Don’t know if you’d know my work -- I’ve been in a small handful of moving pictures. ...Or maybe not so small. My hands might just be bigger than the average man.”
[Eli waggles his eyebrows playfully. He’s clearly just having a laugh.]
Eli: “But enough about my assets. My ‘mundane,’ as she calls herself, is a bit tied up with work -- (dryly) a dreadful thing, certainly glad I don’t have that problem...so she thought it would be good to ‘give me some vocal warm-ups,’ as it were, until she can work on her most recent art project more this upcoming Sunday and Monday. And far be it from me to not take advantage of some proper rehearsal time. So that’s why Tory love has opened her ‘Askbox’ for me to use. She says I fit into what she calls the ‘Fantastic Beasts’ timeline, which encompasses the 20′s, 30′s, and 40′s...and she encourages both you, her followers, and your characters from that timeline to interact. Apparently she thinks a famous Hollywood actor needs some friends.”
[Cheeky grin. He holds his hands up with the fingers spread in mock defensiveness.]
Eli: “But hey, I’m not opposed! So go ahead and send in some questions, if you’d like, and I’ll answer them over a nice breakfast of carbs. After I get out of my shower, that is. Reckon I shouldn’t be lolling about in these glad rags all day, however glitzy they might’ve been last night....”
((OOC: Yes! Work is crazy, so I figured it’d be a good time to do a voice test for my newest MC! If your kid is in the Fantastic Beasts timeline, or if you just want to say hi, send in an ask, if you’d like! You can learn more about Eli with this intro post and this playlist, if you’d like -- tl;dr, this is a sunny, anti-nihilistic British FtM wizard who was the resident academically slacking class clown at Hogwarts, before he ran off to the United States and eventually became his universe’s equivalent of Buster Keaton or Charlie Chaplin. His interests include acting, stuntwork, comedy, singing, music (especially the piano), movies, traveling, Muggle technology, wizard dueling, and stage combat, as well as -- oddly enough -- philosophy, sociology, and psychology. So yeah, feel free to say “hi!”))
“I’m insane, but on my toes --
I could keep the world balanced on my nose...
I had a slumber party wit’ all my foes:
Now I wear ‘em like a badge of honor, all my clothes!
If I’m crazy, I’m on my own;
If I’m waitin’, it’s on my throne;
If I sound lazy, just ignore my tone,
‘Cause I’m always gonna answer when you call my phone
Like, ‘what’s up, danger?’”
~“What’s Up, Danger?” by Blackway and Black Caviar
x~x~x~x
Okay, this quite honestly is a collision of several ideas -- one, I realized I haven’t drawn my Fantastic-Beasts-timeline character Eli “Funnyman” Fawcett in a really long time (or done much of any content for him, really!); two, with Pride Month now upon us, I thought making some content for one of my transgender characters would be a good idea; and three, anticipating the new Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse (which I just saw in theaters and LOVED, as to be expected) made me listen to the first’s soundtrack a LOT. So here we are -- Eli Fawcett, smiling as always...but perhaps not for so wholesome of a reason as simply acting in a Muggle comedy film.
For you see, this scene is set at a banquet that is supposed to commemorate the 1939 Cannes Film Festival in Cannes, France. Sadly, as any history nerd knows, the festival doesn’t go as planned. Just as Nazi Germany invaded Poland, Grindelwald’s supporters decided to take advantage of the turmoil to commit acts of terror against those Ministries of Magic who had aligned themselves against him, including the French Ministry. As fate would have it, the building Vinda Rosier and her subordinates attacked ended up being the venue for a party full of Muggle film stars and filmmakers set to have their movies premiere at the Cannes Film Festival -- and one of those stars ended up being not a Muggle, but a wizard who had fully integrated into the Muggle World. And so you can imagine the Acolytes’ surprise when they caught the sound of a cheery tune on the air.
“Every morning, every evening, ain't we got fun?
Not much money -- oh, but honey, ain't we got fun?”
When they swept around a table, they found what looked like a Muggle man in half-undone formal wear crouched down on the ground, singing that tune seemingly to no one except himself. Perhaps it was the laidback, ridiculous affect the man moved with that made it so that even when he slipped out his redwood wand from the inside of his sock, the Acolytes actually had to do a double take before attacking. By the time they did, however, it was too late -- Eli Fawcett had already rolled across the floor and, singing more brightly than ever, went on the attack.
Although Eli is not a talented wizard by most metrics -- considering he only ever earned one NEWT in school, for Muggle Studies of all things -- he was always a rather talented magical duelist. His Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts actually lamented Eli’s poor marks on tests and anything that involved reading or writing, because he easily could envision the second-eldest Fawcett following the eldest into the Auror Department, just based on his talent on the dueling field. But truly Eli was much more of an entertainer than a soldier -- yes, perhaps his singing spoke to that, but there was actually some shred of cleverness behind such a seemingly airheaded action. For you see, the white-covered table the Acolytes had found Eli crouching down beside was the hiding spot of a French child actress named Simone Bonaccord, set to make her film debut in a film being shown at the Cannes Film Festival. Finding the poor little girl trembling behind the table, Eli -- with some difficulty, since he spoke just about no French -- coaxed the seven-year-old to hide under the table before adjusting the tablecloth to hide her. Eli’s act then served as a proper distraction so as to lead the wizards away from Simone until either she took the opportunity to escape to safety or help from the French Ministry arrived. By the time the second of those scenarios came to pass and Vinda Rosier had to make a quick exit with her remaining cronies, the French Aurors were taken aback to find a good twelve Acolytes Stunned, paralyzed, or otherwise magically trapped. It was hard to tell at first whether the Head of the French Aurors was displeased and impressed at first, with how quietly he surveyed the scene.
“You are an American,” he said at last.
Eli grinned self-effacingly. “Not born and raised, but yes. Eli Fawcett, at your service -- or at your mercy, I suppose, considering I just skirted the Statute of Secrecy -- but hey, what rule isn’t at least a little fun to break, right?”
The French Auror looked perplexed. “...I was under ze impression zat in America, you live completely separately to les Non-Magiques...pardon -- No-Majs, is zat how you say it?”
“Actually, I still end up saying ‘Muggles’ most often,” Eli said amusedly, “being raised in England. But yeah, No-Maj would be the correct term, State-side.”
The actor's grin grew a bit cheekier.
“And for the record, yes, we do live separately and act all holier-than-them in America, just like wizards in Europe do. Thanks, colonialism.”
The French Auror raised his eyebrows. Then his dark face broke out into a very broad, white smile as he chuckled.
“You are very witty, Monsieur Fawcett,” he said, sounding almost charmed. “It iz a shame zat you only have starred in silent films, when you zeem to have zo much of value to say.”
The amusement flickered on Eli’s face, betraying genuine surprise.
“So much of -- ?” he laughed uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh no, I’m...I’m a right chowderhead, really. Reckon there are broken bulbs in this room that are brighter than me! But ‘mare-cy bow-coo,’ all the same, ‘Mon-sewer.’”
Eli kept his smile plastered on as he quickly excused himself, not liking how uncomfortable the sincere compliment had made him. He’d been praised for his comedic and musical talent plenty of times -- that kind of praise was a little easier to accept, when Eli practiced those things so much. There was also more superficial praise that Eli didn’t like as much but had learned to shrug off more easily, like people praising his “sunny deposition” and “pretty face,” when everyone still knew him as a lady. But this kind of a compliment...
“...when you zeem to have zo much of value to say...”
Being the resident idiot in a family of overachieving academics, Eli had become more than used to being treated like he was stupid. He was stupid, a lot of the time -- an absolute airhead, to most minds -- a true Gryffindor, acting first and thinking never -- and Eli had accepted that designation with a smile, however much he could drown in his own thoughts when he was alone. Eli had never been the smart one with anything to contribute in class or to the workforce. He’d never been the upstanding Ministry employee like his father, or the battle-ready Auror like his brother, or even a political crusader like his grandfather. The only things of value Eli had ever contributed was some short-lived laughter -- a funny little distraction from their day-to-day lives. Some mindless entertainment, on a Friday afternoon. Even just now, when he’d protected Simone...he did it while behaving like an absolute buffoon. Acting ridiculous and serving as a distraction, while also hoping to make the poor, scared little girl smile.
Eli wasn’t witty. He wasn’t useful or valuable, not handsome nor clever -- he was funny. It was all he’d ever been...and it was all he really knew how to be.
