[ he skims the directions on the bottle before opening it. even though his arms are starting to shake, eliot manages to peel the foil off carefully as a single piece. he only takes one because he can hear margo yelling at him from some distant plane about being irresponsible and overdosing when he shouldn't. if it's not enough, he'll know anyway. he swallows it down dry, obviously well used to the action.

there's a slow, deep breath and a sigh before he responds. god, he wishes he had a cigarette. ]

I did something stupid and unleashed an immature god with no morality clause and a knack for killing anything that doesn't agree with him. It. He? Kind of possessed me and then it was turtles all the way down. My. Friends had to deal with that while I was. Trapped. In this weird hellish mindscape, but I managed to survive in something like a mind palace. When I managed to let them know I wasn't exactly dead and gone, they started trying to figure out how to. Well. I guess it's exorcism, isn't? Anyway, Margo earned this pair of really badass axes that can purge spirits from a given vessel, so.

[ he snaps his finger to emphasize the action. there's a faint, unintentional spark as he does. his nerves aren't wholly his right now. ]

I guess if I had to pick a place, the stomach is better than losing an arm or a leg. Bambi only did what she had to though. I don't blame her.