The look on Jasmine’s face as she stands at the top of the stairs is murderous. If she were a fire Initia there’d probably be steam coming out of her ears and things would definitely be on fire. She loves her brother, never mistake that fact, but sometimes she could throttle him! Not only is his incessant partying keeping her up at night - she’s heavily considering sound proofing her room - but he doesn’t even have the decency of cleaning up a bit before he passes out on the floor!

They haven’t even been in the city that long, she only just finished unpacking the day before, and already he’s falling back into his self destructive ways. She’s not really sure if he’s even awake yet, she can’t see his figure anywhere, so she does at least retain enough sympathy for the hangover she’s positive he has to pad quietly down the stairs on her way to the kitchen. This and her dance studio are two of the only places in the house she has ordered her brother out of. Eliot can cook a mean steak on the grill but when it comes to more traditional cooking, well let’s just say she doesn’t want the new house burned down. Thankfully this place was mostly left untouched, a few scattered bottles here and there the least of the damage compared to the rest of the house. She quickly puts on some bacon and eggs to start frying and turns on the coffee maker, hoping the sound and smell of breakfast cooking will rouse him from whatever hole he’s managed to curl up in and at least bring him over long enough to eat something.

She’s flipping the bacon in the pan when she hears the tell tale sounds of his footsteps behind her and she turns to look over her shoulder at him, smiling somewhat at his haggard appearance. “Bacon should be ready soon. Coffee’s done.” She motions with her free hand to the fresh pot of coffee sitting on the counter, trusting him to make his own past that point. She’s his sister, not his maid. “You know, part of me wants to thank you for not letting the carnage reach the kitchen and part of me wants to throttle you for the rest of the house.”

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Eliot's head was pounding. Was it because of the third pill he took or the...what had it been? 16th shot? He slumped up in what he assumed was bed but shortly realized he was in the garden shed laying on a blow up unicorn. Where had this come from? He didn't own this. Hauling himself up and grabbing his jacket which had been balled up as a pillow. Running his hand through his hair and taking a deep breath. All while trying to stop himself from swaying. Once he had finally gained his balance he swung open the door for the sunlight to blind him. "Fucking, shit piss, donkey fucking ass hat backwards shit is this?" He blinked a couple times until his eyes had adjusted to the brightness of the morning. His feet started to drag him to the back patio. 

The whole back area was destroyed. Red solo cups, cigarette butts, and empty bottles littered the finely crafted wood deck. Eliot almost found it temping to fall down into one of the chairs and sleep. His bed was so close yet so far. Seeing a half smoked joint Eliot picked it up and placed it in his lips. Almost about to light it up until the small smell of fresh coffee. Dropping it on the ground he spun a little to fast on is heels and almost falls over in the process. Opening the sliding door his sister's voice reaches him. He can't tell if it sounds like a caring mother or a scolding shit head little sister. Walking over to the coffee pot without a word. 

Grabbing a simple black cup he poured black coffee into it. Jasmine could very well tell he was most defiantly still intoxicated on something. "Ahh dear sister." He gasped after his sip. "What would I do without you hear to scold me." He laughed lightly as he let his body relax and dance over to her. He smelt as bad as he looked. While he spoke to her he looked deep, his head wavering slight "We have people to clean the house, you, you are people" His laughed bellowed through out the house as tears formed on the side of his eyes. "Just messing with you" He tapped her shoulder before going and sitting down at the dinning room table which could be seen from the kitchen. *Open concept* "I see your little smirk over there as well Jazzy. You know I still try" Obviously - as the house will stand as evidence. He doesn't.  

She turns slightly when she notices it’s the sliding door to the backyard opening that she hears, barely managing to restrain a sigh. She loves her brother, truly, but he can really work on her nerves sometimes. She just hopes no one managed to mess up the pool, she was hoping to go for a swim later and she will not be swimming in anything unsavory. That would result in a fight and Eliot knows it quite well. Jasmine doesn’t turn as she hears him stumbling around behind her, the sound so familiar now that she’d actually be more worried if he was walking straight, though she is slightly worried he’ll fall and crack his head open.

The look she turns his way when he finally addresses her is droll to say the least. “You want honest or sarcastic? How about both! Without me here you’d still be back home with mother and father. Or living in a pigsty.” He doesn’t miss the way her nose wrinkles up as he approaches her. He certainly smells like a pigsty. His joking comment earns him a glare, her eyes flashing gold for a brief moment as she brandishes the spatula at him as though it’s a pointer. “Keep that up and I’m going to stop cooking for you. And no, you still won’t be allowed to junk up my kitchen. Oh! Also, for the love of my sanity, take a shower!” That said she turns her attention back to the eggs before she burns them accidentally, putting them on plates and sliding Eliot’s to him after he takes a seat. He gets the hefty share of the bacon, she has a shoot in a couple days and greasy salty food plus cameras tend not to work well.

This time her sigh seems a lot more serious and genuine and she looks at him over the rim of her coffee cup as she raises it to her lips to blow on it. She’s not joking this time. “No El, that’s the problem. You don’t try. You don’t have much asked of you here - keep your mess out of the kitchen, let me sleep at night, and pick up after yourself. So far you’re failing on two out of three and if you keep this up you’re going to get cut off.” Being cut off will be the least of his problems too. “I love you but you’re acting completely irresponsible. Bringing home strangers, partying all hours of the night, it’s like you never left high school! It’s going to bite you in the ass. Hell, it already has and you refuse to see it.” Though she doesn’t bring up his name he knows exactly who she’s referring to and although her eyes hold a tinge of sadness to them they also hold a fire that he’s come to expect from her the last several years. “I don’t want to watch you ruin yourself Eliot. You’re not punishing anyone with your behavior, you’re not making anything better. You’re just going down a self destructive path that will lead to me losing you.” She pauses for a moment and takes a sip of coffee, only to sigh after she puts it down. "We don't have anyone else here Elly. It's just us."

Eliot's eyes snap over to his sisters harsh truth. His brain was not ready to deal with this. He blinked a couple times, as if he was going to blink away the high. His brain a littler to fuzzy to give a fully coherent response. "Mom is mom, dad is dad, we are here." As the words mumbled out of his mouth he let his body slump into the chair a bit more. His hand drifted over the table filled of cups and shit. Grabbing a bottle cap and repetitively spinning it till it fell. His sister's voice was cutting through his brain like shards of glass. "Why do you love to torture me so." A dramatic sign left his lips as he straightened up his back. As His sister walked over to the table with bacon he nodded with a smile and a soft thank you. Despite everything Eliot knows his sister only means well. 

As his sister slapped him in the face with reality he shoved the bacon into his mouth. Yet some how still held some form of elegance. "You do realize I have been cut off. You still have a bankcard with our parent's name on it" He pointed to her, then to himself. "I on the other hand have investments and savings i;m living off. Which also pay for this house." He motions to the whole room with a flick of his wrist well leaning back. The comment of his lover made Eliot narrow his eyes and brows bunch. "This is my life. These are my friends and what we like to do. Who is there to judge me? Except you." His eyes fall back to her. As she mentions Only having each other his shoulders and facial expressions. His face once again twisted as he looks at her pushing the plate away and sipping his coffee. With a moment of silence he looked at her.

"We have nothing besides out self's. A homophobic father, A mother who is narcissistic as fuck, AND lets not forget about Alistair. The fucking piss ant." He leaned back in the chair as he fought back tears, slight flicks of red rang in his eyes as his emotions fluctuated. "Elly..."He scuffed. "When will you stop with that childish man jazz." He always bugged her that he hated it. When in reality it was the closet thing he has ever had to comfort. This whole time he never raised his voice. He remained relatively calm for the conversation type. 

If she thought he were more sober, Jasmine might actually respond to his nonsensical statement about their parents. As it is she just cuts her eyes at him for a moment and goes back to what she was doing. “Because I’m your sister and I love you, so it’s my job.” Her little smile is teasing but he can see the genuine support undercutting it. She really wouldn’t be so hard on him but she feels like if she’s not then he’d just spiral even faster and that’s something she refuses to watch happen.

She raises an eyebrow at him as he attempts to lecture her on the money, picking up one of her few pieces of bacon and pointing it at him as though it’s her finger instead of fried meat. “You do realize that I handle a lot of the finances here right? You’re eating through your money a lot faster than you seem to think you are. You’re only, what, 27? You have another good hundred years to make that money last and at this rate you’ll be lucky if it lasts ten. I’m not saying you have to stop completely but you need to reign it in. If only for your health.” She’s well aware her credit card is still connected to her parent’s but she’s really only doing that in order to save up money from the jobs she’s taking until she can tell them to shove their money. She really only uses it for bills and food anyway. Finally she munches on the piece of bacon instead of waving it at him for emphasis. “They’re not your friends Eliot. You only just met them and they’re using you for your money and drugs. You know nothing about them. I bet you don’t even know most of their last names.” It’s really too early for this but honestly it was too early to wake up to a destroyed house too so she finds it hard to feel bad for the lecture.

“Our parents are shit, you’ll never hear me deny that. As for Alistair, he doesn’t care about us. We can’t change that, but we can do better here and we do have each other. In this city that’s all we have. You’re all I have here Elly and I’ve been watching you waste away for years now. I can’t… won’t watch you die.” Finished with her plate she gets up from the table and carries it over to the sink, making sure to face away from him so he doesn’t see the way her eyes take to shining for a moment. She rinses out her plate and puts it in the dishwasher before she answers him, allowing the question to hang for a moment. “Never. You will forever be Elly to me just like I’ll always be Jazzy to you.” She looks over at him again then and forces a small smile.

Eliot sat listening to his sister. His head thumping as he twisted the coffee cup in his hand. How much she resembled the best part of their parents. She had the sternness yet softness of their mother and the determination of their father. Sometimes he thought she should have been the oldest sibling. His hands drifted over the cup as he felt the warmth vibrating off it. How he sometimes wanted to submerge himself in a vat of flames. His eyes lifted back to his sisters to see her still dead locked on him. With a huff he spoke. "You are right" His next words grumbled a bit. "As always." He put his hand in his pockets. only to feel a small bag he knew all too well. He dared not lift it out at this table as he didn't want to get hit. His headache was to large to have that play into the factor. 

"When do you think they will care Jazz? Do you think ever?" He 100% ignored her comment on his friends. To him they were his friends. They protected him when he was too drunk or high, and by that I mean they didn't let him drown in his own puke. He tumbled her words in his mind as he kept spinning his coffee cup after he removed his hand from his pocket. Slight splashes came out the top landing on his hands and table. His hands starting to shake as his come down was starting. "Wanna know my best memory? Is laying with Gregory in my room - for once not on anything. Just laying on the ground, talking, holding hands...." His voice started to shake. "Dad opens the door and just turns back around. I'll never forget the look on G's face man..." Eliot's hands stopped shaking as harshly. "He was so shocked. Dad was suposta be on a trip for god knows what, in god knows where. Yet he was home. G was so nervous and adorable...." He trailed off as he sipped his coffee again, He knew his father knew he was gay from a younger age but refused to see it or accept it. A simple, casual memory was one of Eliot's favorite for that factor, It was calm, it was ok and nothing bad happened for once in his life. 

out of no where Eliot slammed his hand down on the table. "Father seems to think everything is my fault. Do you ever think he's fucking looked in the mirror and thought 'Oh shit i'm a horrid fucking dad and i should apologize to the kid's I've royally fucked UP!" In the split of a moment his eyes flashed a bright red. He stood up and with all his force threw the cup at the wall. Causing it to shatter into a couple dozen pieces. He flopped down in the chair and started to laugh. Which soon turned to a light sob.  "I hate him Jazz, I hate him so much...."

Her gaze remains steady as she watches her brother, she’s making a concerted effort to reign her temper in. She knows she can be a bit of a hot head, to the point that Alistair once commented she should’ve been a fire Initia like Eliot, but she’s mellowed out some since going to college. She doesn’t respond to his affirmation that she’s right, she knows she’s right. He’s still not going to change. So there’s no point in continuing the conversation.

She can practically feel his mood spiraling as he talks but she keeps her eyes steady on him, giving him something of a grounder. “... I used to think someday. If I was good enough for them, if we were good enough. That day made me realize that we never would be. I mean… he wouldn’t even pay to make sure I was safe…” those words tear at her expression more than anything that’s happened so far this morning but she quickly composes herself. When she notices his hands starting to shake she reaches out and lightly puts her own over his, hoping for the warmth to calm the tremors. Her small smile is sad as she listens to Ely tell the story, it’s one she heard about later as she overheard their father’s blistering rant back in his office. She elects not to tell him about that. She’d rather not ruin it. Once his hands stop shaking as badly she withdraws her own, instead turning to grab a towel so that he can get the coffee off himself and the table. She knew about Ely before he stopped hiding from their parents and knew that the blow up would happen before it did. She’d tried to warn him but… well it didn’t work. She’s never said ‘I told you so’ though. The situation was bad enough that she’d never do that. “I know you miss him.”

Jasmine has been around Eliot enough to know that even with the outburst and the sudden shards of coffee cup now laying on the floor that he would never hurt her. It’s purely due to that fact that she doesn’t flinch when he launches it across the room, instead watching him until he slumps back in the chair. It’s only then that she walks around to him, giving him a gentle hug. “I know. But he’s all the way across the country now. You can move on with your life, you don’t have anything to prove to him. Not anymore.”

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