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Aquarium

A some point during the walk over Zeke had begun to wonder if their Shields worked against hangovers, and if they did, how bad Ever's might have been without Amory. He also wondered if perhaps the blonde's weapon was cruel enough to just let Ever suffer.

Curiously he gave Laggy a mental prod, to which she could only respond with the sensory impression of a shrug. Zeke hadn't drank enough the night before to really test the theory, so the valkyrie didn't know.

When they arrived, and Ever had claimed a bench, the Mist had given him a soft squeeze to his shoulder before indeed wandering off, though not terribly far. There was plenty to look at in the little alcove the bench sat in. Glass and faux rock walls rose up and around them, creaking something like a cave, and there were windows and clear panels on all sides with various different marine life on the other side. One such window had sea stars and bottom feeder fish, and Zeke had paused there, watching the seemingly undisturbed sandy bottom intently. Fixed, if one were to follow the line of his gaze, on what looked like just a rock peeking out of the soft sediment.

Aquarium

Not as date-y as Zeke had thought, unfortunately, with Ever horizontal on a bench and a security guard watching him with eyes narrowed, like he was concerned a young man was going to take up residence in his aquarium. For the time being, he would: not quite sleeping, just waiting for things to settle a bit.

This place would help, at least some, cool and dark as it was. Ten minutes, maybe twenty, and he'd have his sea legs back to wobble his way up next to Zeke. Graceless, he slumped in against the bar and squinted into the water.

Aquarium

Evers appearance at his side had Zeke pulling his gaze away from the sandy tank floor and into him. He smiled, warm, and refrained from asking how he was feeling--better than he was, but not as good as he usually did. It was obvious, so instead the Mist brought a hand up to Ever's back, rubbing back in forth along his lower back, under the heavy weight of his sweater.

After a quiet minute he'd give a nod to the unassuming rock he'd been staring at before Ever had joined him. "See the bumpy lookin rock?" He was all smiles and peace, clearly in his element. "It's a cuttlefish." He was 99% sure it was a cuttlefish, at least. "Those ridges are its eyes. They're little masters of camouflage, with this unreal control over the cells of their own bodies. They can contract or expand the pigment cells in their skin, it lets them change color faster than any other creature."

To Zeke this was all incredibly interesting, but then he'd gone to college to it.

Bibliophile

Zeke geeked out at the aquarium; here, settled up next to the information booth in a Barnes & Noble, Ever was geeking out in his own way. His request for a Beardsley-illustrated Le Morte d'Arthur was met with baffled looks and then, passed from one clerk to the other, straight up laughter. Now the computer was turned so that he could look at it, chin on his hand and expression somewhat horrified.

"Three thousand dollars?" He said it in a whisper, at least, with a new appreciation for the thing. The clerk had offered just the illustrations -- those you could buy, cheaper -- but that defeated the point. And so, for 20 minutes, they'd search the internet and find the cheapest one on ebay nine hundred.

That wasn't going to happen.

But the employee had gone beyond, so Ever'd pick up some things while he was here; what he could to brush up on some languages that had gone fuzzy, in the back of his mind. And he'd buy Zeke any book he wanted, likely, for waiting the near forty-five minutes while Ever ******** around...

Bibliophile

Ezekiel had stayed at Ever long enough to give a low whistle at the asking price of the book he had his eye on, then he was offering a consoling, if inconspicuous, pat to his rear as he murmured something about looking through the aisles.

When Ever had finished with the clerk he'd find the Mist in the fiction section, leaning against a shelf, flipping through a copy of Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.

Food truck row

For Zeke it was exciting; for Ever, it was somewhat overwhelming. He eyed the line of trucks and his eyebrows pulled down, slowly, in the middle of his forehead, uncertain --

"...whatever you want." And maybe, just maybe, he was a bit nervous. Some of them were strange; duck crepes, bacon maple macarons, passionfruit smoothies. Ever would probably have just gone for a plain old hot dog but in this crowd, even those probably had pineapple on them.

23rd Hour

It didn't feel like they'd already burned up their time.

Zeke was a little on the quiet side as he checked his bag, making sure everything he'd arrived with was still with him, as well as the book Ever hard bought earlier. It was, she he zipped it up, sinking down to sit beside it on the edge of the bed

23rd Hour

Maybe Ever should have been saddened by the return to Deus as well, or sorry to go at the very least -- but he seemed chipper as always as he loaded what he could until his battered messenger and kept the rest in plastic shopping bags. Cigarettes, alcohol, the new computer still in its box: between them, they had a lot to lug back.

"Fairly successful, I think." He still sounded a little raspy, achy. Eventually, the hangover would wear away and he'd be back to normal. He offered Zeke a hand. "Ready?"