[ eliot is here, because of course eliot is here. he has a phd in partying, after all, especially when it's partying while something else considerably more important is occurring adjacent, like the fact that they all appear to be trapped inside some huge fuckoff electric fence! he refuses to indulge the horror that is graphic t-shirts, especially not after the last few months where he was equally trapped in those, thank you very much, and as such has made do as well as one can with making all black summer friendly. specifically: his shoes and socks are gone, his dress pants and sleeves rolled up to just below the knee and elbow, respectively (looking, somehow, like they were tailored to exactly that length??), vest and jacket folded neatly beside the several chairs he has dragged together to form a lounger fit for a person verging on six and a half feet tall.
this already ridiculous tableau has been topped off by a tattered umbrella stamped with what appear to have once been carebears; you can't have his flawless complexion, sun!!!!!!!
he seems, and perhaps is, mostly asleep. perhaps you would like to come by and inquire about any of these absurd details? or admire the fact that his shirt's buttons are like, undone to the sternum? maybe you just want to know where you can get one of those fruity drinks the size of his head, the ones that do not appear to exist at the snack table? or maybe you wish to invade his peaceful semi-slumber with lake water. eliot waugh is your oyster, party-goers. your ludicrously good looking oyster. ]
ii. refreshments table
[ eliot and gwen did not bring food to this enterprise; since when does a party need that? what they did bring, surprising probably no one who has encountered either of them for longer than it takes to say 'my god you're pretty,' is a quantity of alcohol that could put a liquor store to shame. all of it, alas, frankly terrible and named things like professor hotbod's cinnamon tequila.
naturally, even before they so much as left the house, eliot decided that was unacceptable, and upon arrival, extended that massive tidal wave of disdain to everything available. thus, before he descends into the aforementioned state of liquid, he is doing a public service by wandering down the drinks table, doing a series of complicated hand movements over various bottles and leaving them ......different colors? glowing?
the natural progression of this, of course, is that a little while later he appoints himself bartender, stopping anyone who will allow themselves to be stopped before reaching for any of the table's original offerings. ]
Allow me. Friends don't let friends drink - [ he examines the closest can ] Schloppy's Imitation Eggnog Schnapps.
iii. wildcard!
[ if it can be done at a beach...ish...party ...thing, eliot has probably done it at some point. gimme a prompt and we'll do a thing! ]
eliot waugh | ota
[ eliot is here, because of course eliot is here. he has a phd in partying, after all, especially when it's partying while something else considerably more important is occurring adjacent, like the fact that they all appear to be trapped inside some huge fuckoff electric fence! he refuses to indulge the horror that is graphic t-shirts, especially not after the last few months where he was equally trapped in those, thank you very much, and as such has made do as well as one can with making all black summer friendly. specifically: his shoes and socks are gone, his dress pants and sleeves rolled up to just below the knee and elbow, respectively (looking, somehow, like they were tailored to exactly that length??), vest and jacket folded neatly beside the several chairs he has dragged together to form a lounger fit for a person verging on six and a half feet tall.
this already ridiculous tableau has been topped off by a tattered umbrella stamped with what appear to have once been carebears; you can't have his flawless complexion, sun!!!!!!!
he seems, and perhaps is, mostly asleep. perhaps you would like to come by and inquire about any of these absurd details? or admire the fact that his shirt's buttons are like, undone to the sternum? maybe you just want to know where you can get one of those fruity drinks the size of his head, the ones that do not appear to exist at the snack table? or maybe you wish to invade his peaceful semi-slumber with lake water. eliot waugh is your oyster, party-goers. your ludicrously good looking oyster. ]
ii. refreshments table
[ eliot and gwen did not bring food to this enterprise; since when does a party need that? what they did bring, surprising probably no one who has encountered either of them for longer than it takes to say 'my god you're pretty,' is a quantity of alcohol that could put a liquor store to shame. all of it, alas, frankly terrible and named things like professor hotbod's cinnamon tequila.
naturally, even before they so much as left the house, eliot decided that was unacceptable, and upon arrival, extended that massive tidal wave of disdain to everything available. thus, before he descends into the aforementioned state of liquid, he is doing a public service by wandering down the drinks table, doing a series of complicated hand movements over various bottles and leaving them ......different colors? glowing?
the natural progression of this, of course, is that a little while later he appoints himself bartender, stopping anyone who will allow themselves to be stopped before reaching for any of the table's original offerings. ]
Allow me. Friends don't let friends drink - [ he examines the closest can ] Schloppy's Imitation Eggnog Schnapps.
iii. wildcard!
[ if it can be done at a beach...ish...party ...thing, eliot has probably done it at some point. gimme a prompt and we'll do a thing! ]