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.
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[ 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.
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[ 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.
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[ 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?
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[ 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.
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[ 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?
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( 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.