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“So, the key to jazzing up any party, is to have a hip flask. A shot of moonshine in whatever you’re drinking, it will jazz any party.” True to his sentiment, Alejandro poured some of the contents of his flask into his own cup, before offering some to Elliot. “Cannot promise you won’t wake up wanting to die. It’s effects can be...quite potent.” @elliotsharpe
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He sits at a chair in a living area. To a cursory glance, the room might appear empty. Everything is quiet, save for the soft sound of a pencil scraping over some paper. A notebook rests on his lap, and he seems to be crossing out some writing in it. The tip of the pencil snaps loudly, and a frustrated noise leaves his lips. He looks up and around for either a new pencil or a place to sharpen it.
Waiting in the Waiting Room
Madeline knew why she was here: her new family was worried about how she was handling her past and needed someone to talk to freely- and to make sure she was stable. Stepping into the waiting room she relaxed a little, it was nothing like she had in mind. For some reason she thought seeing a therapist meant she would go into a big building and be forced to do all sorts of psychological tests to see if she was still sane. But the room was a beautiful calming lavender with lights and a little fountain near the check in desk which she walked to. After a little bit of confusion Madeline finally sat in an empty chair with a pile of paper work.
An uneasy feeling filled her as she looked down at the sheet of odd symbols. She thought Nat was going to do all of this before hand, but the records needed more now. The first line was easy "Name"; she had seen it many times in the last few days with doctor appointments and paperwork. In a very delicate cursive she wrote out her name. The first few questions were easy, however after the first page she was lost. Nibbling her lip nervously she looked about the room- she didn't want to bother anyone else. Tapping the pen against the clip board her soft brown eyes stared at the symbols, she had no idea what some of them meant, some she could guess. Crossing her denim clad legs she pushed her hair behind her ears, her soft grew sweater tugged over her hands as she became more and more nervous and uncertain.
REQUEST & COMMAND || garrett/elliot
Garrett was settling in nicely. The rooms were top of the line, of course, everything that he would need, everything that would keep him comfortable and happy. It was a nice place to nest up for a while, away from the high octane life of international thievery and crime. Not quite a secluded island in the tropics, but it had its charms, certainly. Garrett brought the glass of whiskey to his lips again, draining the last of the contents within the crystal glass. Licking his lips he set it down on the side table near one of the couches. He eyes the clock on the nearest wall vaguely before grabbing the the full bottle from another table and bringing it over. With his glass refilled he swished the contents around a moment before taking a long sip. Where in the hell was he? Garrett liked to consider himself a patient man, one had to have patience in his former business, but as with everything there was a limit. To keeping himself calm he sat back in one of the fine chairs, reclining in it slightly with a short sigh.
