[ kit shoves his face back into his pillow once he realises that elliot isn't going to text him back. he has some hope that maybe he'll be able to get more sleep before his home is invaded by a woodland creature armed with plans kit's not even sure he wants to know about. but of course, it's too much to ask.
as soon as he hears a noise, he groans, muffled by the fabric beneath his face and has to force himself out of bed, swearing under his breath all the while. he doesn't remember giving elliot a key. so his lock's going to be checked, and he's going to punch the git in the arm for breaking into his apartment.
first thing's first is to find out what is going on in his kitchen. ]
Elliot, for fuck's sake, it's half four in the morning. Can't your wild kitchen adventures wait until later?
[ Ah, that sounds like a planned excuse as he digs things out of his backpack. Jars. Those certainly are Jars of... different stuff. Is that salt? Who knows. What's important is that he's adding things to the blender he has set up. ]
Have you got any fruit? Doesn't matter I've brought strawberries.
[ Is that kale he's adding? Y e p. Also something that looks suspiciously like dirt.
Ice where's the ice. Oh found the ice. Adding some ice. And powdered jellyfish. Is that holy water he's dumping in there?
Let him just chop the cores out of the strawberries and pop them in there too. He's on a mission. ]
Breakfast is more of an eleven in the morning thing.
[ or 1pm, as kit is sometimes prone to do. don't ever let it be said that he can't sleep for either africa, or just as long as possible. ]
Then why did you— what the hell are you putting in there, Elliot?
[ powdery crap, water, dirt -- something like dread settles in his stomach, and he can already feel the illness that's going to hit him as soon as this weird concoction is put together. and he's nervous about it already, glowering at the ingredients, blender and elliot in turn. ]
Eleven is almost noon, you're aware of that right? Four never hurt anyone.
[ Honestly, expect a gangly woodland creature asleep in your bed probably in an hour, Kit. Four am is hurting him. ]
Purifying ingredients, in theory this should help you.
[ In theory. But he sounds kinda solemn. He tosses a few more things in before before putting the lid on and hitting the button causing it to make an awful grinding noise. ]
That's good. [ Elliot finally speaks when he turns the blender off. ] I haven't really gotten a wink yet.
[ kit will sleep on elliot, okay. he will accept this. ]
Oh. [ well, that does change things a little. now he understands why he's being woken up at four am. ] Righ— purifying dirt, though? [ and there's a wince at the noise, because it's still four am and still too early for all this. ]
[ sometimes he wonders this. and by sometimes, that's most of the time, really, as much as he loves the bastard. ]
Great. I'm going to be drinking grave dirt. I'll get infected by some weird grave shit and die. [ brilliant. what a way to go. and what would his grave say? 'killed by the bullshit that he's buried in lol'? he wouldn't put it past elliot to do that. ]
The next words garner a frown from Elliot, and as if to prove a point, he takes a sip, a very, very small one, of the smoothie before passing it over to Kit. ]
It's times like these where that is very, very debatable.
( that doesn't comfort him in any way. with all the shit elliot puts into his body, some grave dirt wouldn't kill him. knowing kit's luck however, it would probably destroy him in the most painful way possible before finally letting him die.
and elliot would still laugh.
still, he takes the drink anyway, and sort of nurses it in his hand for a while. it's obvious he's reluctant to drink it, and it shows on his face and the way he raises it up slightly, and then puts it back down every now and then.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
:||||
as soon as he hears a noise, he groans, muffled by the fabric beneath his face and has to force himself out of bed, swearing under his breath all the while. he doesn't remember giving elliot a key. so his lock's going to be checked, and he's going to punch the git in the arm for breaking into his apartment.
first thing's first is to find out what is going on in his kitchen. ]
Elliot, for fuck's sake, it's half four in the morning. Can't your wild kitchen adventures wait until later?
c:
[ Ah, that sounds like a planned excuse as he digs things out of his backpack. Jars. Those certainly are Jars of... different stuff. Is that salt? Who knows. What's important is that he's adding things to the blender he has set up. ]
Have you got any fruit? Doesn't matter I've brought strawberries.
[ Is that kale he's adding? Y e p. Also something that looks suspiciously like dirt.
Ice where's the ice. Oh found the ice. Adding some ice. And powdered jellyfish. Is that holy water he's dumping in there?
Let him just chop the cores out of the strawberries and pop them in there too. He's on a mission. ]
How did you sleep?
>:||||
[ or 1pm, as kit is sometimes prone to do. don't ever let it be said that he can't sleep for either africa, or just as long as possible. ]
Then why did you— what the hell are you putting in there, Elliot?
[ powdery crap, water, dirt -- something like dread settles in his stomach, and he can already feel the illness that's going to hit him as soon as this weird concoction is put together. and he's nervous about it already, glowering at the ingredients, blender and elliot in turn. ]
Fantastically.
no subject
[ Honestly, expect a gangly woodland creature asleep in your bed probably in an hour, Kit. Four am is hurting him. ]
Purifying ingredients, in theory this should help you.
[ In theory. But he sounds kinda solemn. He tosses a few more things in before before putting the lid on and hitting the button causing it to make an awful grinding noise. ]
That's good. [ Elliot finally speaks when he turns the blender off. ] I haven't really gotten a wink yet.
no subject
[ kit will sleep on elliot, okay. he will accept this. ]
Oh. [ well, that does change things a little. now he understands why he's being woken up at four am. ] Righ— purifying dirt, though? [ and there's a wince at the noise, because it's still four am and still too early for all this. ]
Finish this and get some sleep, idiot.
no subject
[ Cuddles, Elliot's favourite. ]
Gave dirt, actually. [ He clicks it off when it's sufficiently mixed into a smoothie. The blond busies himself with grabbing a clean glass for Kit. ]
Maybe.
[ The word is said with a smile as he pours the mixture into the glass. ]
How are you feeling by the way?
no subject
[ sometimes he wonders this. and by sometimes, that's most of the time, really, as much as he loves the bastard. ]
Great. I'm going to be drinking grave dirt. I'll get infected by some weird grave shit and die. [ brilliant. what a way to go. and what would his grave say? 'killed by the bullshit that he's buried in lol'? he wouldn't put it past elliot to do that. ]
Fine. As usual.
no subject
[ HAHAHAHA.
The next words garner a frown from Elliot, and as if to prove a point, he takes a sip, a very, very small one, of the smoothie before passing it over to Kit. ]
See, you won't die.
[ Really, he knows Elliot too well. ]
On a scale from one to ten, ten being the best?
no subject
( that doesn't comfort him in any way. with all the shit elliot puts into his body, some grave dirt wouldn't kill him. knowing kit's luck however, it would probably destroy him in the most painful way possible before finally letting him die.
and elliot would still laugh.
still, he takes the drink anyway, and sort of nurses it in his hand for a while. it's obvious he's reluctant to drink it, and it shows on his face and the way he raises it up slightly, and then puts it back down every now and then.
he trusts elliot, but... grave dirt. )
Five. Maybe six, at a push.