[It's still a bit fragmented, but he does recall.... A few things. That he rather wouldn't.
Primals to think he completely lost his mind like that—]
Even so, my behavior.......
[He can't even word it properly.]
It was... Improper and offensive towards you.
[And, well, to everyone, but she got the worst of it.
Ugh, it makes him sigh and rub his brows. He's not even sure what to make of his behavior and thoughts at the time. Any of it real? Or just part of the magic that was over him?]
[She winces visibly and audibly at that. Stronger than the masquerade...? As if that wasn't powerful enough magic, she can't help wonder what today must have been like for him. He felt compelled to... gods forbid, smile at people, and socialize with them. Share details about his life when he is Mister "It's Classified" every other time.
So, if it were like the masquerade, then she can reasonably conclude that some of it was real. It had made her act on every impulse she had when she was under the influence of the cocktail, but did Eustace really have such impulses? What happened between them, maybe, but everything else?
Plus, he'd said all those things to her earlier, too... things that she hasn't forgotten...]
Well. [Her voice is sharp, back to the way it had been when they met again after the first incident, right back to Business. It's easier this way.] At any rate, you seem to be recovering. Let's not dwell on what happened and move forward? Unless you'd rather discuss it further.
[They've already talked this through for the most part.... and that seems like the best way to move past it is to just... do.
Clearing her throat loudly, Ilsa pushes herself off the bed.]
[She looks him up and down, a questionable brow arching.]
You won't fit comfortably on the couch.
[He's too tall for it, and if he's still feeling sick—]
I'd rather you get a comfortable night's sleep and feel refreshed in the morning. Though, with how hard you slept, I'd be surprised if you could fall asleep again for a while.
I've already caused you enough discomfort, I'm not taking your bed on top of it.
[A sigh.]
And you're not wrong... But it would be better. Not sure if it's a hangover or aftereffects of the spell... Or hitting my head on the floor that's giving me this headache.
[If he recalls... He did empty out his stomach in spectacular rainbow fashion and it was mostly alcohol, anyway.
....
Come to think of it, did he eat anything at all yesterday??? No wonder drinking all those shots was a poor choice. Ugh he wants to bury his head in the ground for all that. Uugggh....]
...Do you mind if I wash up> A shower might help clear my head a little...
[And he's all gross and sweaty and ick. He should offer to wash her sheets later...]
[She makes her way to the door herself. Unfortunately, she doesn't have the large fancy ensuite yet so he'll have to make do with the regular bathroom, but it will do just fine.]
I'll leave some fresh towels for you when you're finished, and the tea will be done, too.
Ilsa stares at him, wide-eyed and surprised. That was... loud......
She'll try not to laugh, but there is a stifled quirk of her lip as she bites back the urge to snicker at him. No... she respects him too much to blast another hole into his dignity for today. She can laugh about it tomorrow.]
Good thing you picked up all that food. I'll heat that up for you, too.
[AND HE IS GOING TO DISAPPEAR INTO THE BATHROOM BEFORE SOMETHING ELSE HAPPENS—
Valo will only follow him a few feet before deciding to leave him be and trotting over to Ilsa instead, tail wagging. He wants to help! Even if it's just keeping her company.]
[She gives Valo an affectionate pat, cooing at him for being such a good boy all day today before she's heading to the kitchen where she'll work away at preparing the food, warming it up and setting it all nicely onto plates rather than the containers they came in. She also sets out a few bananas to help with his headaches and brews hot water for fresh cups of peppermint tea. Ah, and the two dozen cream puffs as well... in case he wants dessert? Someone's going to have to help her eat all of these!
And of course, she won't forget Valo—he gets a scoop of peanut butter, but that part is their little secret. Eustace doesn't have to know.
As promised, there will be a fresh, fluffy towel hanging on the inside of the door for Eustace for when he's finished. He'll have to use her soap, though—he'll come out smelling nice and floral when he's finished. Better than the sweat and alcohol from before...
And once he's out, the two of them sit around the small table with Valo resting near Eustace's feet. There isn't much conversation to be had... Ilsa doesn't really want to talk about what happened, and she's sure that Eustace would prefer to have some space to think through it and sort his thoughts out a little more, so she doesn't push the subject, let alone broach it while they enjoy the food, the tea, and the desserts.
They're there for a while, long past Ilsa's usual bedtime. The rest of the town is surely asleep by now, the street dark outside when she glances out the window. It must be well past midnight, but she doesn't bother to check as she finishes cleaning up the dishes, setting them into the sink to wash in the morning.
It's then that she does have to present one subject—that of their sleeping arrangements.]
I still think you should just take the bed tonight.
[She's going to be a little stubborn about this.]
A good night's sleep will do wonders for that head of yours.
[The shower does him wonders, especially for helping to clear his head. He'll take a little longer than usual as he lets the water massage his head, the pressure of the water soothing. Of course... In the process he ends up thinking more and more about what transpired. Of how he woke up in the morning feeling oddly.... "Peppy" and trying on those godawful clothes. Of chasing after Valo in said godawful clothes and his behavior towards Ilsa...
Seriously, what he had been?? A child??? He wants to slam his head against the wall, but he refrains, instead letting out a longwinded sigh as he picks up the soap... And recognizing it as the scent that Ilsa uses. Normally this wouldn't matter, but this also spurs on other memories that he wants to slap himself over. He's already recalled them, but he really wish he hadn't. Wishing he hadn't acted in such a way that once more makes him question everything about himself.
What was real.
What was fake.
What was real but he didn't realize it.
The fact that this all happened towards Ilsa... Whatever more intimate feelings he might have aside, he still respects her as a friend and colleague. He can only be grateful she hasn't struck him down, though she had every right to. Really, he feels more guilty about that than anything.
His pride has certainly taken hits, but he doesn't care about what other people think. Ilsa on the other hand...
Seeing the towel waiting for him only sinks that guilt in further, and after drying up and changing back into his clothes, seeing her with that food prepared somehow makes it worse. She should be sending him packing, not taking care of him.
...
So while he is genuinely thankful and says as much as he joins her, there is that awkward silence as he continues to wonder and process everything. How this magic stripped him of his will and changed him completely. He's at least come more to terms with everything else—there's not much he can do but that, really. Dwelling on the rest of it won't get him anywhere, and really making a fool of himself while drunk is the least of his worries.
It's just Ilsa... And since she seems okay then... He won't press into it, either. He's not going to forget, that's for certain, but there's not really much more that can be said. He still can't answer the question she asked earlier—whether any of it was real.
Because he still doesn't know.
Still doesn't know if it was because of the magic and the alcohol or if they just helped those feelings come out.
...And perhaps because of that ambiguity, he's going to be stern right back at her.]
I won't be able to have one if I know I made you sleep elsewhere. I can sleep on the couch or even on the floor, it's fine.
[That gets a loud, tired whine out of Valo. Here they go again...]
Is the thought of sleeping in my bed such a turn off for you?
[It's not like she'll be sleeping there with him!!! But she does walk up to the bed to grab one of the pillows like she's planning to take it out to the living room with her.]
I have slept in worse conditions than a couch. I don't need you to fret over me all the time. I would rather you didn't for now.
[Especially after today.....
Another weary sound from the dog who has now snuck up behind the two of them...]
Because Ilsa feels a nudge on the back of her legs that makes her knees suddenly buckle and with Eustace's inconveniently timed pull, she loses her balance and smashes right into him, pushing him down onto the bed and landing on top of him with only the pillow to save her face from crashing into his.
And as soon as she lands, Valo hops up between their legs and puts his front paws on Ilsa's back to keep her down.]
[Oh what in the— Down they go and at least it's a soft landing, but now they're all tangled together with him on the bottom.]
Valo!!
[Seeing the dog on top of Ilsa makes him raise his voice for probably the first time, but Valo is not swayed. There's a low grumble and another pat pat of his paws.
BOTH WILL SLEEP ON THE BED. THERE'S ENOUGH SPACE AND YOU DID IT BEFORE JUST FINE STOP BEING BABIES!!!]
[She shouts along with him, but he doesn't let up, and Ilsa groans under the shifting weight and the pat of Valo's paws, her face burying into the pillow to hide herself and to muffle the sounds of her curses before she's lifting it again, and every inch of it is red.]
no subject
[It's still a bit fragmented, but he does recall.... A few things. That he rather wouldn't.
Primals to think he completely lost his mind like that—]
Even so, my behavior.......
[He can't even word it properly.]
It was... Improper and offensive towards you.
[And, well, to everyone, but she got the worst of it.
Ugh, it makes him sigh and rub his brows. He's not even sure what to make of his behavior and thoughts at the time. Any of it real? Or just part of the magic that was over him?]
no subject
[Stop talking about it like that! While most of the behaviour was indeed... strange... some of it she really should have said no to......
Speaking of that, she's going to ask the question anyway—]
Was any of that real?
[Mainly the things that happened at the end, but honestly? All of it works too, because what the hell...]
no subject
BUT uh..
....
He's silent before he can finally answer with some resignation.]
I don't know.
[And he really doesn't.
They already established there is indeed something between them, but neither are still sure if it's genuine or influenced by the magic.]
It...felt a little similar to back at the masquerade. But stronger.
[Which is also concerning...
But he doesn't say more for now as he tries to not only remember but also process what he was thinking and feeling at the time.]
no subject
So, if it were like the masquerade, then she can reasonably conclude that some of it was real. It had made her act on every impulse she had when she was under the influence of the cocktail, but did Eustace really have such impulses? What happened between them, maybe, but everything else?
Plus, he'd said all those things to her earlier, too... things that she hasn't forgotten...]
Well. [Her voice is sharp, back to the way it had been when they met again after the first incident, right back to Business. It's easier this way.] At any rate, you seem to be recovering. Let's not dwell on what happened and move forward? Unless you'd rather discuss it further.
[They've already talked this through for the most part.... and that seems like the best way to move past it is to just... do.
Clearing her throat loudly, Ilsa pushes herself off the bed.]
You should stay the night, though. Just in case.
no subject
But when he hears her get up and makes that suggestion, he frowns and starts to pull himself up to stand.]
I won't refuse, but I'll take the couch.
no subject
You won't fit comfortably on the couch.
[He's too tall for it, and if he's still feeling sick—]
I'd rather you get a comfortable night's sleep and feel refreshed in the morning. Though, with how hard you slept, I'd be surprised if you could fall asleep again for a while.
no subject
[A sigh.]
And you're not wrong... But it would be better. Not sure if it's a hangover or aftereffects of the spell... Or hitting my head on the floor that's giving me this headache.
[Probably all three.]
no subject
[Definitely.
She comes around to the other side of the bed where he is, looking him over again.]
Do you want anything? I can brew you some tea.
no subject
[If he recalls... He did empty out his stomach in spectacular rainbow fashion and it was mostly alcohol, anyway.
....
Come to think of it, did he eat anything at all yesterday??? No wonder drinking all those shots was a poor choice. Ugh he wants to bury his head in the ground for all that. Uugggh....]
...Do you mind if I wash up> A shower might help clear my head a little...
[And he's all gross and sweaty and ick. He should offer to wash her sheets later...]
no subject
[She makes her way to the door herself. Unfortunately, she doesn't have the large fancy ensuite yet so he'll have to make do with the regular bathroom, but it will do just fine.]
I'll leave some fresh towels for you when you're finished, and the tea will be done, too.
no subject
Tha—
[GUUuRURUuUURURUUGLE.
...
.................
Yeah that was his stomach.]
no subject
....
Ilsa stares at him, wide-eyed and surprised. That was... loud......
She'll try not to laugh, but there is a stifled quirk of her lip as she bites back the urge to snicker at him. No... she respects him too much to blast another hole into his dignity for today. She can laugh about it tomorrow.]
Good thing you picked up all that food. I'll heat that up for you, too.
[What would he do without her—]
no subject
A sigh as he runs a hand through his hair.]
...Thanks.
[AND HE IS GOING TO DISAPPEAR INTO THE BATHROOM BEFORE SOMETHING ELSE HAPPENS—
Valo will only follow him a few feet before deciding to leave him be and trotting over to Ilsa instead, tail wagging. He wants to help! Even if it's just keeping her company.]
no subject
And of course, she won't forget Valo—he gets a scoop of peanut butter, but that part is their little secret. Eustace doesn't have to know.
As promised, there will be a fresh, fluffy towel hanging on the inside of the door for Eustace for when he's finished. He'll have to use her soap, though—he'll come out smelling nice and floral when he's finished. Better than the sweat and alcohol from before...
And once he's out, the two of them sit around the small table with Valo resting near Eustace's feet. There isn't much conversation to be had... Ilsa doesn't really want to talk about what happened, and she's sure that Eustace would prefer to have some space to think through it and sort his thoughts out a little more, so she doesn't push the subject, let alone broach it while they enjoy the food, the tea, and the desserts.
They're there for a while, long past Ilsa's usual bedtime. The rest of the town is surely asleep by now, the street dark outside when she glances out the window. It must be well past midnight, but she doesn't bother to check as she finishes cleaning up the dishes, setting them into the sink to wash in the morning.
It's then that she does have to present one subject—that of their sleeping arrangements.]
I still think you should just take the bed tonight.
[She's going to be a little stubborn about this.]
A good night's sleep will do wonders for that head of yours.
no subject
Seriously, what he had been?? A child??? He wants to slam his head against the wall, but he refrains, instead letting out a longwinded sigh as he picks up the soap... And recognizing it as the scent that Ilsa uses. Normally this wouldn't matter, but this also spurs on other memories that he wants to slap himself over. He's already recalled them, but he really wish he hadn't. Wishing he hadn't acted in such a way that once more makes him question everything about himself.
What was real.
What was fake.
What was real but he didn't realize it.
The fact that this all happened towards Ilsa... Whatever more intimate feelings he might have aside, he still respects her as a friend and colleague. He can only be grateful she hasn't struck him down, though she had every right to. Really, he feels more guilty about that than anything.
His pride has certainly taken hits, but he doesn't care about what other people think. Ilsa on the other hand...
Seeing the towel waiting for him only sinks that guilt in further, and after drying up and changing back into his clothes, seeing her with that food prepared somehow makes it worse. She should be sending him packing, not taking care of him.
...
So while he is genuinely thankful and says as much as he joins her, there is that awkward silence as he continues to wonder and process everything. How this magic stripped him of his will and changed him completely. He's at least come more to terms with everything else—there's not much he can do but that, really. Dwelling on the rest of it won't get him anywhere, and really making a fool of himself while drunk is the least of his worries.
It's just Ilsa... And since she seems okay then... He won't press into it, either. He's not going to forget, that's for certain, but there's not really much more that can be said. He still can't answer the question she asked earlier—whether any of it was real.
Because he still doesn't know.
Still doesn't know if it was because of the magic and the alcohol or if they just helped those feelings come out.
...And perhaps because of that ambiguity, he's going to be stern right back at her.]
I won't be able to have one if I know I made you sleep elsewhere. I can sleep on the couch or even on the floor, it's fine.
no subject
Is the thought of sleeping in my bed such a turn off for you?
[It's not like she'll be sleeping there with him!!! But she does walk up to the bed to grab one of the pillows like she's planning to take it out to the living room with her.]
I have slept in worse conditions than a couch. I don't need you to fret over me all the time. I would rather you didn't for now.
[Especially after today.....
Another weary sound from the dog who has now snuck up behind the two of them...]
no subject
He is going to walk up to her to try and take that pillow away???]
It is if the owner was kicked out because of my negligence.
[Yep, here comes the dumb bickering that makes no sense to anyone but themselves.]
no subject
She's going to hold onto that pillow tight and try to wrench it free from his grip.]
It isn't being kicked out if I offered.
[How To Bicker Like You Are Married Without Being Married: A Lesson.]
Let go of the pillow.
no subject
And I am refusing.
no subject
And it's bad manners to refuse your host.
[Give. It. Back
Though, she doesn't even realize the little nudge that Valo gives her against the back of her leg with his head...]
no subject
[YANKING HARDER—
At exactly the same time Valo is giving that nudge to Ilsa and getting in Eustace's way just enough for him to step back towards the bed.]
no subject
But this would be their downfall. Literally.
Because Ilsa feels a nudge on the back of her legs that makes her knees suddenly buckle and with Eustace's inconveniently timed pull, she loses her balance and smashes right into him, pushing him down onto the bed and landing on top of him with only the pillow to save her face from crashing into his.
And as soon as she lands, Valo hops up between their legs and puts his front paws on Ilsa's back to keep her down.]
no subject
Valo!!
[Seeing the dog on top of Ilsa makes him raise his voice for probably the first time, but Valo is not swayed. There's a low grumble and another pat pat of his paws.
BOTH WILL SLEEP ON THE BED. THERE'S ENOUGH SPACE AND YOU DID IT BEFORE JUST FINE STOP BEING BABIES!!!]
no subject
[She shouts along with him, but he doesn't let up, and Ilsa groans under the shifting weight and the pat of Valo's paws, her face burying into the pillow to hide herself and to muffle the sounds of her curses before she's lifting it again, and every inch of it is red.]
I think he's trying to tell you somethi—hurgh!
[Valo pats his paws on Ilsa again.
AND YOU TOO, MOM!!!]
no subject
All right! We both use the damn bed!
[Only then does Valo stop and wag his tail, panting happily. But he has to hear it from Ilsa, too.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
🎀!!