Archive of Our Own ^beta

"No no no, I'm - I'm serious. Dude. How did you get Youtube famous? Like, not gonna lie, I've been trying since I was nine."

"Wait really? What were you doing?"

"You know, engineering..."

"HA! That's why! People don't wanna see that. I don't wanna see that. People wanna see you almost fuckin' die. That's how I got famous."

"H-hey! You say that like I'm not famous now! Look at me. I'm Mirage, best goddamn Legend out there."

"You? HA!"

"Yeah, me! Wanna take me out?!"

"Ugh, no."

"Wait what--"

"Guys, guys, chill," a more gentle voice pipes up. Ajay's got her hands up to mediate but there's a smile on her lips and a bottle in her hand. "We're all just here to have fun, right? Don't be mean."

"But being mean is fun, Ajay," Octavio whines. He curls himself closer to Anita and brings his own bottle up to drink.

Ajay rolls her eyes. She tangles her legs with Natalie's once she sees there isn't any more trouble. Elliott snorts and turns away, already forgetting the beginning of their argument. He looks around for something else to do for fun.

Nine of the Apex Games' best legends sit around Anita Williams' living room with an assortment of crackers, dips, and alcohol to liven up the mood a bit. It's not often all the legends get together, but Anita tries to push for it at least once a year. Something about team building and moral boosting. Elliott honestly doesn't know. He mostly just comes around for a good time. Getting hammered or high with friends is a lot better than getting hammered or high alone.

Wraith usually brings weed they can use - responsibly - during these get togethers but she decided against it when she heard Octavio, Ajay, and Natalie where coming by. 'They're too young,' she had said. 'They kill people willingly,' Elliott said. Either way, they were all old enough to drink so Elliott brought some drinks. Anita agreed with Wraith against the weed - for god knows why - and nominated herself as designated driver if they need one - again, for god knows why -. Elliott can't complain because she's opened her home and gave them all more beer.

The 'kids' as Elliott has taken to calling the youngest three, seem to be enjoying the drinks too. Natalie was more hesitant of drinking to get drunk before Anita assured her she'd be well watched over if she decided to drink at all. As the oldest and only sober human legend in the room - except Bloodhound probably -, Anita Williams somehow took the kids under her wings. Literally. They swarmed the couch she sat on and fought over who was allowed to sit under her arms, which she simply laid across the back on the couch.

Makoa has a loveseat to himself, which Elliott is a little jealous of. He's sharing the couch opposite the man with Bloodhound. Bloodhound isn't unpleasant to be around, but they definitely might be asleep and Elliott is doing his best to hold back his flailing arms out of courtesy. Between Elliott's couch and Makoa's loveseat, a low coffee table is placed. Wraith and Pathfinder sit there quietly, observing the room with what might be mild interest. Wraith is kind of just squinting oddly at the four people squished on the couch in front of her while Pathfinder turns his head at anyone talking with a smile on his screen. He can't drink, get intoxicated, or be under any kind of influence as far as anyone knows, so he's really just here for time with friends.

Nox isn't around, mostly because Anita didn't invite him, and partly because if she did, like she has once, he'll show up and tell borderline evil plans once he's drunk to the point everyone feels terrifyingly concerned for their lives. Life is much safer without him around alcohol and dangerous objects. Or any object. Life is much safer without him around people.

Elliott spots an empty bottle on the coffee table. "Hey, is anyone gonna use that?" he asks, pointing at it. "I mean, it's empty but, is it for something?"

Wraith raises an eyebrow and shakes her head. "No. I finished it. Why?"

Elliott grins, reaching for it. "Gather around children," he announces. "And Anita. And Hound maybe. And Path. Or really even Wraith. God, how do you all live not knowing your birthday. The cakes you're missing out on."

"I know my day of birth," Bloodhound says suddenly.

Elliott flinches in surprise and holds his chest "Oh, fuck me! I thought you were asleep."

They tilt their head, ignoring him. "I choose not to celebrate it."

"That's even worse news," Elliott tells them. "You need to know how to live a little. Get yourself out there. Treat yourself."

They don't respond, so Elliott turns to the others, who are watching him expectantly. He makes sure the bottle is empty, then lays it on its side.

"Okay, so I've got a game. Oldest goes first, alright? So that's Anita. As far as we know. She'll spin the bottle, and whoever it points to, she gets to ask a question. Then that person spins and it just goes on. But they have to answer! If they don't, they take a shot."

"Like, in the head or of vodka?" Wraith asks.

"Your choice," he winks.

"No. No guns," snaps Anita. She scowls at their chuckling faces. "And we're playing with lukewarm vodka. It's in the garage. I don't drink often."

Elliott brightens. He didn't think she'd be on board for such a meaningless game, especially one she has to start off. "Really? We're playing? I mean, yeah, cool, warm's alright. It's just fine. Vodka's vodka."

Anita nods and moves to get the liquor, which causes all three people leaning on her to whine. She smiles but doesn't say anything. Natalie scoots closer to the table and rubs her hands together excitedly.

"Zis sounds fun!" she giggles. "I love games and I would love to get to know you all more!"

"Sounds like Elliott's excuse to ask incriminating questions," Wraith mutters into her bottle.

Pathfinder shakes his head and wears an exclamation point on his chest. "I agree with Miss. Paquette! I also love games and I would also love to get to know you all more! What a wonderful idea, Elliott!"

"Why thank you, Pathfinder. That means a lot," Elliott smirks, pleased he has an idea everyone seems to like. Even Octavio and Lifeline have scooted near the table, watching Elliott with an interest they never seem to give him during the Apex Games. Possibly because they all know how to play that game.

Anita returns with a decorative glass filled with clear liquid. Elliott can't recognize the brand, which is a feat considering he's a bartender, so it must be especially fancy or expensive. The bottle looks expensive at least. She drops it on the coffee table as if it's of no real importance then falls into the empty space on the couch the other three legends kept for her.

"Alright, bitches let's get this glass spinnin'," she says, then reaches out and twists the bottle on the table. In a blur of brown, the bottle seems to spin forever. Each legend watches carefully as if it'll tell them their fate. Even as it slows to a stop and the neck points to Octavio innocently, the other legends hold their breath in anticipation.

A grin slowly creeps up Octavio's face, his eyes lighting up and his hands coming together to clap rapidly as if he was just chosen as some kind of winner. "Ooh! Ask me, ask me, ask me!"

Anita squints and turns to him fully. She frowns at him, thinking a moment, then, "What the hell were you thinking when that Repulser fell down?!"

It sounds less like a questioning and more like a scolding but everyone seems to burst out laughing in some sort of relief anyway. Even Elliott admits to feeling relieved. He thought about what Wraith said, this game has the potential to be used as a tool to ask each other questions they would probably never dare to any other time. It's unlikely they'll use this game to find out incriminating details about each other. They've all got secrets, but that also means they respect each other about it.

"I mean seriously, Octavio," she throws her hands up in frustration while he just smiles. "That thing was as comin' straight down. If we didn't move right then, we all would've died."

Octavio laughs, his wild, green streaked hair bouncing when he picks his hands up to paint a picture. "I don't know, amiga, it was crazy! It was like, a billion meters high and then it was on fire! Like, it's always same ol' same ol', you know? Same buildings, same ground. Then boom!" He splays his hands out like an explosion, his eyes shining as if he's reliving the moment. Everyone seems to lean in as if it's the most intriguing story they've ever heard. "It's comin' down. When it's movin' so fast, you can't even see the smoke! Just the wires and shit sparking inside, the flames all bright. It's sick! Then it's gettin' bigger and bigger, and I kinda got excited, you know?! It might hit me! Got that rush! Blacked out a moment but Natalie got me up and then there were fuckin' dragons--!"

"Yeah, yeah, got it," Anita waves. If she doesn't stop him, he might go on until morning. "You're crazy in every definition. Just try not to get yourself killed again, alright?"

He smirks, "I can't promise anything."

Makoa slaps his shoulder in amusement, "Chill out, brutha, we like you in one piece!" He pushes the bottle into the daredevil's hands. "Your turn. Don't break the bottle."

Octavio spins the glass. It lands on Pathfinder, who gives an excited reaction a lot like Octavio's. He claps and wiggles with stars in his eyes. "Woohoo! I've been chosen! What would you like to ask me, friend?"

Octavio's eyes widen, "I've wanted to ask for ages! What's it like being made of steel? Must be sick!"

So began the question game. After the robot told Octavio about how difficult it is to find parts yet how fun it is to create his own, he spun the bottle for his own turn. He asked Natalie if she helped create any of the survey beacons because he just adores to solve and scan them. Then she asked Makoa if he had any pictures of him and his boyfriend on their recent vacation, he asked Ajay how she became a combat medic. Every question is tame and friendly as the legends drink and laugh at funny stories or odd confessions.

The bottle has spins and spins and after about an hour, it's landed on every legend at least twice. No one has refused to answer a question yet and Elliott hasn't been drinking very diligently, so by now, he's pleasantly tipsy, just as the others are. Soon, he gets restless though. As much fun as this game has been, he craves more interesting questions, more juicy answers. His prayers are answered when Makoa takes his third turn and asks Wraith a question.

"The voices," he begins. For the first time since the game started, Wraith frowns at a question, before he can even ask. "What can ya tell us 'bout them? Do they botha' you?"

Makoa asks this as respectfully as possible, his eyes soft and his voice quiet. Despite this, the atmosphere turns thick with silent tension. Wraith purses her lips and stares at the small cracker in her hands. She holds it with her thumb, index, and middle fingers of both hands with a sort of confused look. Then she dips one corner in a nearby hummus silently. No one speaks, unsure if Wraith will refuse to answer and drink in passive aggression.

Wraith sighs, closes her eyes, and takes a small bite of the hummus covered corner. "Yeah, they do." Her calm, sort of resigned voice is like water through their tension. She's not upset and it's clear she wants to answer.

"I used to not sleep for days because they'd constantly tell me: do this, do that. Don't do this, never do that. Sometimes… they just talked. About nothing and everything." She scrunches her nose and twists the cracker to dip another corner into a different hummus. "But they're all just me, I realized. Maybe too late. Just me trying to look after myself. So I trust them." The corner is bit, and she smiles. "We're learning to be friends."

There are gentle smiles mirroring her's around the room. Makoa smiles too, "Thank you for telling us."

"No problem," she brushes it off, then dips another corner in the same hummus and stuffs the rest of the cracker in her mouth. She spins the bottle. It lands on Elliott.

He clears his throat and adjusts his shirt as if he's adjusting his tie. There's no tie. In fact, everyone but Pathfinder and Bloodhound are wearing casual clothes fit for a mid week get together. Pathfinder can't wear clothes and Bloodhound is just… Bloodhound. Elliott acts formal anyway with an exaggerated sophisticated expression, and holds his beer bottle like a wine glass.

"Lay it on me," he states, confident he'll get just another question about how much time he spends staring at himself.

Wraith smirks and leans back though. With a cheeky smile, she says, "I read your dating profile. Did you intend to tell all the ladies you fucked a pumpkin or were you hoping to save that for the first date?"

A roar of laughter breaks out, with Wraith's smug face in the middle of it. Elliott freezes, slowly turning beet red as the legends around him fall over at the public information Wraith so rudely shared. Natalie is giggling uncontrollably into her hands, Pathfinder is clapping joyfully, and Octavio has fallen to the ground beside Makoa almost in tears. Bloodhound is staring at him with the same unchanging mask, but is staring nonetheless.

"We-ll," his voice cracks embarrassingly. No one hears him speak at all through the laughter, fortunately, so he can clear his throat and try to gather himself.

"You - you see, that was-" he stops himself when the others finally stop laughing to listen closely for his reply. His face turns hot to the touch under everyone's gaze. No, he can't do this. With a big breath, Elliott forces out a chuckle and reaches for the vodka.

"Let's - let's get this thing goin', huh?" The others laugh again, not as loud, but just as amused. "A little vodka never hurt anyone. Yeah, I think I'll take a shot, you know? Yeah. Yeah, okay."

The liquid burns his throat, makes his eyes water, and Elliott just hopes it can be an excuse for his heated cheeks. Someone whistles excitedly and he lets that fuel him to make the game more of a show. Elliott shakes the liquor off, rubs his hands together, and reaches for the beer bottle with a smirk. "Alright, I see how we're playing now. Let's see how fast we can empty this bottle."

He spins the beer bottle. It whirls quickly between enthusiastic faces, then lands fatefully on Bloodhound. The room erupts in a murmur of "ooh~"s in anticipation. Bloodhound sits up straighter, like they always do when the bottle lands on them, and faces the person who spun it. Elliott is rolling his eyes confidently.

"Oh, this is too easy!" he exclaims. They're so secretive and private on their own, getting them to pass on a question would be far too simple to do. Whether or not they'll drink, is a different question. Silently, Bloodhound watches as Elliott turns to them. "Hound, you're sober, right?"

"Yes, I have not consumed alcohol tonight," they respond.

Elliott hums, "And you've answered each question so far, right? I'm guessing you're playing dill- dilipen- diligently."

They tilt their head, "Are these your questions?"

"Yeah, get on with it!" Anita huffs. Elliott sticks his tongue out at her.

"No," he turns back to them with a smile. "I'm just making sure they'll play by the rules."

"I intend to," they say innocently. Elliott wonders if they know how vulnerable they are.

"Alright! Bloodhound, friend, please answer this. Where were you born." It's such a simple question that any person would be quick to answer casually, maybe even proudly. For Bloodhound however, they like to keep any and all details about themself private.

Even now, Bloodhound lowers their head silently, as if searching their mind for the answer. The room quiets down as well, curious to see the outcome, yet a little hesitant if Bloodhound decides to get angry. Elliott smirks though. He doesn't care to know where they were born, he just wants to see someone else have to take a shot, even if it's over a meaningless question.

"I don't think I'd like to share that," Bloodhound says at last. Their voice is soft, insecure. Elliott tries to ignore the tone and instead revel in the words.

"Aha!" He claps, expecting the answer. Then he snatches up the bottle of vodka and pushes it into their hands excitedly. "Then you drink!"

Bloodhound stares at the bottle. The room stares at it too. When they don't speak, Elliott feels a twinge of nervousness. Did he go too far? Is that indirectly asking Bloodhound to take off their mask? He puts on a smile and nudges them anyway, "C'mon, fam, afraid to get drunk off a shot of vodka? Look at me! I'm totally fine!"

They turn to see Elliott make an exaggerated drunk face, showing off his beer with a tilted thumbs up. Bloodhound is silent a moment more, then ticks their head to the side defeatedly and states, "I will drink."

"Whoop!"

The legends watch as Bloodhound pops the cap off and pours themself a generous shot. They take it in hand in the same stride as they stand up, holding it out as if to make a toast. Elliott and the others watch in a sort of awe when they stand so powerfully. They all look up in wonder, curiosity, and most of all, surprise that Bloodhound would drink anything around them. They've never even accepted a bottled water.

After a few silent wonderstruck moments, Bloodhound glances down between the legends. They tilt their head and make a twirling gesture with their finger as if to say, 'turn around.' There are a couple "oh!"s and "yeah, no problem"s as everyone remembers they would rather drink in private. The legends either look away or cover their eyes just as Bloodhound's hand comes up to their mask.

Elliott doesn't peek through his fingers until he hears a sigh and the familiar sound of a shot glass hitting the table. He sees Bloodhound's hand pushing their mouthpiece closer to their mask as they say, "I have finished."

Grins appear around the room and someone shouts, making everyone else shout and clap enthusiastically as Bloodhound falls back into their seat in a sort of lazy way.

"Hell yeah!" Makoa yells, a hand pumping into the air.

"Let's get this goin', amigos!" Octavio exclaims, "I wanna see Bloodhound drunk!"

Bloodhound chuckles beside Elliott and he hears a whistle from Pathfinder, who he didn't even think could whistle. The room erupts in excited agreement, not only in wanting to see Bloodhound drunk, but also to get drunk themselves. Elliott wholeheartedly agrees. He grins and hits Bloodhound on the shoulder,

"Start us off, fam," he pushes the beer bottle into their hands now. "Who's secrets will you reveal now?"

Bloodhound spins the bottle indifferently and everyone leans in with a new vigor. It slows to a stop, pointing straight at Natalie. Elliott rubs his hands together as Natalie taps her feet with a giggle. Natalie isn't the most reserved person and is very willing to tell random people facts about her life. He wonders what Bloodhound might ask to get her close to taking a shot.

The hunter hums in thought. They tap their mouthpiece a moment, then lean forward. "Do you have any tattoos?" they ask. "Or plan on getting any?"

Natalie's eyes widen in surprise, her mouth opening a bit. Elliott groans and hits Bloodhound's arm rather weakly "Ugh! What a dumb question!" He may or may not be feeling a little more than tipsy after all the beer with the added shot. "And she's twenty-two, she probably doesn't even have one."

Bloodhound only glances at him. "Tattoos can have a deep meaning to the owner. Age does not change this. At twenty-two, she may at least have one for what might be a… coming of age."

Elliott still groans. They may be right, so he stays quiet so she can answer. Natalie smiles a little bashfully. She twists a lock of hair with her fingers when she speaks.

"Well… I don't 'ave any tattoos." Bloodhound nods respectfully. She perks up quickly though. "I want one! I don't know what of, maybe somezing to remember my papa? Oui! Zat would be nice!"

Anita ruffles her hair while the rest of the legends coo at her answer. Elliott does think she's pretty adorable, but he wants to have fun. He grumbles and takes a sip of his beer. Once the praises die down, Natalie spins the bottle for her turn. It lands on Ajay beside her. The medic smiles invitingly when Natalie faces her. She thinks a second, before hiding her face in her hands. Giggling, Natalie peeks up to catch Octavio's eyes, then Ajay's, and hides again.

Elliott sits up with a grin, "This looks interesting."

"Ack! Ahaha!" Natalie shuffles her feet nervously even as she laughs. She uncovers her face only to wave Ajay closer so she can whisper in her ear. Natalie's face is bright red as she whispers her question. Ajay's smile widens mischievously just before Natalie hides her hands in her face again. "I'm sorry!"

Ajay just laughs and shrugs. Elliott raises an eyebrow in suspense. What could she have asked? "I don' know ta be honest," Ajay replies. She leans over to look at Octavio on the other side of the couch. "Have we eva' been togetha'?"

Elliott chokes on his drink. He did not expect that. No one else does either because all their eyes pop out of their head too. Natalie yelps and curls in on herself, Anita facepalms, and Octavio laughs with Ajay.

"Good question. Officially or unofficially?" he asks back, a smug look on his face.

Elliott coughs now, hitting his chest. He didn't expect that either. Natalie shakes her head when Ajay looks at her for clarification. She doesn't seem to want to be part of the conversation anymore out of embarrassment.

Ajay sighs casually, "I think any kind? We've neva' dated, I think, but have we eva'...?"

"Uhh…" Octavio frowns and scratches his chin, as if wondering if he's ever slept with his best friend is a common train of thought. He jumps in his seat suddenly with wide eyes. "Yeah! Yeah, I think so! Remember? After I healed? There was that one night! Remember?!"

As excited as Octavio seems to find the answer, Ajay doesn't look like she remembers. Everyone else is surprised either way. It's common knowledge that Ajay and Octavio are childhood friends, but they've said they parted for years before Octavio blew off his legs. Since then, they've been glued to the hip. No one's ever thought they've been more than just friends, especially because they've expressed attraction to other people before. Either way, Elliott is glad Natalie brought up the question so he could hear some juicy details like this.

"I don't think I do, 'Tavi," Ajay frowns. "Ya legs healed pretty quickly, so I don't rememba when ya did."

"No no no! Well, yeah! But no! Remember!" He snaps hurriedly as if that would help her, then points at her with a wink. "After I healed."

It takes another few seconds but Ajay eventually understands, "Oh! After ya healed. Yea' I rememba." Octavio clicks his tongue confidently with a smirk. Ajay laughs. "See, Natalie? There's ya ansa'. We've been togetha once!"

Natalie has since uncovered her face but she still looks red. She whines, "I only meant dating… Zen… I guess zat works to'."

"...Oh. Well, ya heard it! My turn!" Ajay jumps to grab the empty bottle happily as if she didn't just disclose her entire relationship with Octavio a second earlier. Elliott is still shocked at the information. He might've guessed they've slept together once, but only if he put his two brain cells together for an hour. They really just seem like good friends, and that's apparently what they still are now. He lays back now, satisfied with the new information anyway.

The other legends shuffle almost uneasily when Ajay spins the bottle, still surprised she spoke so openly and wondering how she'll continue. She nor Octavio care about the others knowing, so when the bottle lands on Wraith, Ajay is quick to ask her question.

"Ooh! Since we're on tha topic," she smiles casually, "Wraith, have ya eva slept with a friend?"

Unable to stop himself, Elliott lets out a loud, "HA!"

Wraith's eyes widen and she seals her lips, refusing to reply as she goes straight for a shot glass and the bottle of vodka. Everyone releases a laugh at that. Elliott doesn't know if it's because of Ajay's nonchalance to ask such a question, Wraith's quickness to pour herself a shot, or the idea of why she might pour a shot, but Elliott thinks this is the most interesting the night's been in a while. The others seem to agree because Pathfinder is clapping in encouragement, Makoa is snorting in disbelief, and Bloodhound is shaking their head in what could be amusement.

Much to Elliott's pleasure, the next half hour is filled with a lot of laughter and a lot of unanswered questions. Wraith took a turn away from the directly sexual questions and instead asked Anita how many times someone's caught her in the range making borderline intimate sounds every time she pulled the trigger. Anita scowled and gulped down some vodka without a word. After that, the questions seemed to revolve around calling each other out about embarrassing or overconfident moments. Elliott would say they're all being a bit mean, but with the way everyone is quick to throw back a shot and respond with equal fire, he thinks their social integrity will be just fine.

Pathfinder, of course, is unable to take a shot, but he says that if someone were to manually put him "to sleep" for a few seconds, he thinks the feeling of waking up so often amounts to the sort of dizziness and incoordination the others are feeling. They're all a little skeptical and hesitant of breaking him until he admits, shyly, to having done it before. He would only need a full 10 hour shut down to be right as rain again, which Elliott can relate to. Because Pathfinder isn't especially embarrassed or unwilling to answer most questions, he's opted to "take a shot" each time he doesn't know the answer to something without looking it up.

Bloodhound's situation is just as easy to manipulate. They're secretive and blatantly private. All someone has to do is ask them some odd question about their past for them to refuse to answer. Elliott has seen them take a shot at every question since he asked about their birthplace. He would be worried they're all going too far if not for the way Bloodhound seems to have the memory of a god. Each time, they look away and down the vodka only to turn back and call someone out on an embarrassing shot they missed a year ago. They're still playing, so Elliott thinks they're doing just fine.

Elliott's had his fair share of drinks too. He's stopped drinking beer because he knows he'll get plastered considering the amount of questions he's passing - such as: 'How long did it take you to find out you're vegi-sexual?' and 'Was it you that I saw taking a walk of shame home by that waffle place last winter?'

As the legends get more drunk, they're also getting more confident, Elliott notices. Soon, they're answering the embarrassing questions head on without anything but a laugh. They're quickly bridging into the more intimate questions. Natalie is bright red and can't sit still even as she pouts and asks Anita, sadly, "'Ow long do you zink it will take to find ze ozer Williams'? I zink your broz'er is still fighting…"

Anita replies with a long sigh, "Not long, Miss. Paquette. Soon I'll earn enough to get back to home base. Until then," she smiles, "I guess you'll just have to put up with me."

Elliott probably most definitely almost cried in his emotional drunk state. He covers it up by clearing his throat loudly, which is conveyed more to the others that it's time to get the laughter up and going again. Anita rolls her eyes and spins the bottle. It points at Octavio beside her.

"Alright, Silva, confession time," she smirks. Octavio wiggles his eyebrows, ready for the question. "When you were telling us about your and Che's engagement in… amorous congress, what did you mean when you said 'after you healed'?"

Elliott sniggers a bit at her euphemism. He's curled up in his corner of the couch with a pillow clutched to his chest. He peeks his red, intoxicated face above it however, just to see Octavio's grin at the question. He ticks his head to the side confidently when Ajay giggles and he gives her a knowing look.

"Well, compadre," he sighs, laying back lazily. His face is just as red as Elliott's. "Let's just say I'm well decorated in ways you can't imagine."

Octavio winks when Anita only looks confused. The room is silent for a long moment when the legends try their best to focus their drunk minds on what he said. It isn't until Natalie frowns and pushes at Ajay that she's whispered clarification.

All the color drains from her face in the very second she's spoken to. Her eyes gaze off and her mouth pops open in shock. Natalie whips her head to Octavio, meets his dark eyes, then glances to his hips for no longer than a heartbeat. She snaps her gaze back to his eyes as red travels right back into her face in a flooding blush. Octavio holds her gaze strongly, and even seems to lean in with his devilish smirk.

"My god…" Wraith whispers, before planting her face into the coffee table.

At this, the rest of the room pieces it together. Anita facepalms yet again, Makoa lets out a loud, big belly laugh, and Pathfinder wears a " :O " emotion on his chest. Ajay pushes Natalie out of her stare with Octavio in another giggling fit while the man only sits back and drinks his water cooly.

"Yes yes, you're all laughing now, but there's a reason Ajay was so quick to hop on the Octrain when I healed," he assures with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

"Stop tellin' everyone that, 'Tavi! That's just a coincidence!" Ajay is quick to correct him even as she's giggling.

The room erupts in more laughter from Makoa, Ajay, and Elliott, who seem to be the only ones taking any real amusement from this. Elliott is chuckling from his corner on the couch while Bloodhound beside him tilts their head and makes a soft, "Oh…" sound. Anita and Wraith mostly just seem disappointed.

After the bulk of the "tmi" stares have died down, Octavio grabs the bottle to spin for his turn. The glass whirls quickly, then points to Bloodhound. The hunter straightens to a sit from leaning back on the couch and faces him. They nod at him as everyone expects to see them take another shot.

They're not as fun as Elliott hoped after they've had a few shots. Maybe it's the mask, but Bloodhound just seems the same to him. When it's their turn to try to make someone pass a question, Bloodhound's quick witted and almost sassy. They would say, 'Ah, Makoa, I have been meaning to ask, are planning on riding those motorcycles? Or are you using the large collection to compensate for something else?" They were referring to his combat skills but Elliott especially enjoys those moments either way. But if they're not biting back with some remark, they're simply laying on the couch beside him, humming and chuckling quietly. It's the most engaged he's seen them in anything other than training and hunting so he guesses it's a step up.

"Since we're on the topic…" Octavio says, grinning.

"Oh ho ho!" Elliott chuckles, interested in this interaction. Octavio used the same words Ajay did just before she repeated Natalie's question to Wraith.

Bloodhound sighs tiredly. "No, I do not have a penis piercing, Octavio."

Octavio's jaw, along with everyone else's, drops. Elliott struggles to keep from laughing at their blunt words.

"You have a penis?!" Octavio exclaims in shock.

All eyes snap to Bloodhound as the legends try to figure out if they really just gave out such a personal piece of information. Either way, not even Ajay's dagger-like glare could keep the burst of giggles from leaving Elliott's lips at Octavio's dumbstruck face. He couldn't care less about what was actually being said at the moment.

Bloodhound tilts their head toward Octavio. Calmly, they respond, "Has it occurred to you that I do not have a penis piercing because I simply, may not have a penis?"

"Hound, back at it with the clapbacks!" Elliott cheers drunkenly. No one cheers with him.

Bloodhound ignores him too. They sway their head in a sort of unbothered way someone might do if they were rolling their eyes. "Are these your questions, Octavio? May I take my turn?"

Elliott giggles. He takes it back, they're kind of fun once they've got a few shots in them. Octavio rushes to snap himself out of his daze. He looks between the other legends and blurts, "N-no! That wasn't my question! Do I still have one? Am I still in? Someone answer me."

The others frown and turn to Bloodhound. It's their choice whether or not he gets the chance to ask another incriminating question. Bloodhound just shrugs, "Go ahead."

"Sick! Thanks," Octavio quickly celebrates, then leans in. "I was gonna ask, do you have any piercings? Like, at all?"

It only takes a moment for Bloodhound to nod swiftly and say, "Yes."

"Ooh~" Elliott sings. The look on Octavio's face says he's not the only one interested to learn more.

Bloodhound is just about to reach for the bottle when they stop themself, a tilt to their head. "Wait. No. I don't think I do," they admit. "I might- um…"

"Huh?"

"If you do not know the answer without looking it up, you must take a shot," Pathfinder reminds them. These are the rules the robot must follow, so they can very well be applied to Bloodhound too.

"I am unsure what it's-" Bloodhound mutters to themself quietly. Then they huff in defeat, "I cannot give an answer. I will take a drink."

When Bloodhound reaches for the vodka for the nth time that night, a sort of sway to their movements, and something twists in Elliott. He frowns and brings a hand out to quickly stop them. Maybe he's worried, maybe he's curious. Either way, he pipes up, "W-wait, hey. If you can't answer 'cuz of some language barrier thing, you don't have to drink."

Bloodhound turns to him silently but Elliott looks at the others. "Right? Like, they didn't give an answer, but it's not their fault. They get a chance to answer another?"

The rest of the room wear mostly uninterested and unknowing expressions. They shrug, share some eye contact with each other, and look at either Octavio, Elliott, or Bloodhound for an answer.

"Your call, brutha," Makoa offers nonchalantly to Elliott. "Your game, your rules. But if Hound doesn't wanna hear anotha dumb question, they don't gotta."

Everyone else nods in agreement, so Elliott narrows his eyes to ask Bloodhound, "You good? 'nother shot or question?"

They look at the ground a moment. Octavio is on the edge of his seat, probably eager to ask more questions, but he's holding himself back to wait for their answer like everyone else. Elliott shouldn't really care. He's still a little concerned though. Even though his intoxicated haze, he knows Bloodhound's had just as much, if not more shots than he has. They haven't eaten anything though, so Elliott wants to make sure they're okay.

Thankfully, Bloodhound nods shortly to him, then to the group says, "I will try another question. Octavio, if you have one."

"Hell yeah I do!" Octavio rubs his hands with a light in his eyes that makes everyone chuckle. "That got me all intrigued now! I won't ask about your body mod but I definitely wanna know more about you. What's your skin type? Not like, if you burn or tan, but like - what color? Shade, I mean."

Anita is quick to hit him on the arm. "You're pushin' it, kid," she warns. "You're real close to asking what they look like."

Octavio's eyebrows raise in a second of surprise. He squirms when he sees the others are looking at him the same dangerous way. Bloodhound however, Elliott notes, hasn't moved. Their head tilted a bit when Octavio was talking but Elliott is too unfocused to know what he had said.

"What do you mean?" Bloodhound asks quietly instead of acknowledging Anita's warning.

Octavio points to his arm, then Anita's, "You know, skin type! We're all different colors, right? Pathfinder is blue, I'm white as fuck. Maybe you can tell us who looks closer!"

"Oh. Yes, I understand your question. I mean," Bloodhound scoots closer to the edge of the couch, curious, "what is a 'body mod'?"

At this, Octavio grins. Ajay groans and the others look confused. "A body mod?" He repeats. Bloodhound nods. "Oh, compadre, they're the best! Body modifications are when you like, purposefully change your body. It's when you change your body - uh - science--"

"Anatomy," Ajay sighs.

"Anatomy or appearance." Octavio explains without a breath. His eyes are bright and he's clearly interested in the subject. Elliott doesn't know much about body modifications other than what the words mean. Body. Modifications. He's good knowing that. But he's also a little curious, so he leans in a bit to listen.

"So that includes like, piercings and tattoos! But you can do whatever! Like, some people get implants, skin color - uh - changing stuffs, gauges, big gauges - like plates! You can file your teeth, cut your tongue, web your hands, pierce your dick, your other down there parts, all the parts, really. I think of my legs as a body mod, but that's just me. You can--"

"Okay okay, I think we all get it!" Ajay interrupts. She's got her hands up to stop him and Elliott is sure Octavio would've went on for an hour if she didn't. Octavio just smiles sheepishly. Ajay rolls her eyes and looks at Bloodhound, who has been nodding along diligently. "Ya understand? Is that tha word you were lookin' for earlier?"

They nod hurriedly, "Yes, I believe that fits."

Elliott's eyes widen, surprised. He's never really thought about what Bloodhound looks like under all their clothes. So he absolutely never thought they might have some type of body modification. That's usually a large part of appearances so he's really interested in what it might be. They can have something from just an expensive piercing to an implant just about anywhere.

"So cool!" Octavio exclaims. "What kind of body mod do you have!?"

Elliott squints at Bloodhound, trying to figure it out even through all the gear. They just sit back, however, and calmly say, "You have one question, Octavio, and I may choose not to answer."

Someone snorts. Elliott kind of does too, but Octvaio pouts and groans when he gets shut down. "Why can't I have both? I wanna ask so much!"

"There, there," Makoa hushes, reaching a hand over to drunkenly pat Octavio's messy hair. "You've got otha chances to ask. Little chances, but chances. And they might not ansa', but you can ask."

Octavio crosses his arms and grumbles to himself. Pathfinder also pipes up to say, "They are very private about their appearance. They would like to keep many things to themself."

"But what if they don't have all their clothes on one day and they try to ask for help or something and we don't pay attention because we don't know what they look like! Did you think about that?" Octavio suggests, like it's the worst possible situation that ever might happen.

"He's got a point," Elliott states. Bloodhound looks at him. Even with the mask, they share the same disappointed look everyone else has. But he shrugs. "What if you're like 'Hey, everyone, it's me, Bloodhound, let me in, I'm allowed.' And we're like, 'Nah, fam, you don't have the mask.' Or worse, we think some rando's in the building just walking around and we kick them out, but it's you, and we just don't know it."

"It is unlikely I will approach you without something for you to recognize me with," they deadpan.

"Okay, riddle me this," Elliott rises to the challenge. He's past realizing that he's still sort of asking to know what Bloodhound looks like and is mostly aware that they're trying to say he's wrong. "What if we approach you, and we don't know it? How do we know not to, like, mug you, or pick you up or something?"

Anita scoffs, "Who's to say they'll let you do either of those things?"

"You don't know!" Elliott accuses quickly.

"No, she is right," Bloodhound says. "You have no chance trying to rob me. I would likely hurt you. I have not let you pick me up, however. Walking away has always done the trick."

He freezes. "What."

The whole room seems to be made of ice all of a sudden because no makes a move or tries to take a breath. Everyone's eyes fall on Bloodhound at their words and Elliott is no different. He doesn't dare blink as Bloodhound faces him. They don't seem affected by what they just said, they simply watch him a moment before looking around the room curiously.

"So, uh, we done with this game?" Wraith breaks the silence. She squints around and holds the empty beer bottle in the air weakly. When no one answers, she stumbles to her feet and mumbles, "Cuz I'm drunk and tired and I couldn't give a rat's ass about what Bloodhound's nightlife is like. I'm going to sleep on your bed, Anita. You can't stop me."

Elliott tears his eyes from Bloodhound's mask to dumbly watch as Wraith wobbles across the room with the bottle they were spinning. No one stops her, but they watch as well.

"Hey, Wraith, take her too?" Anita asks offhandedly. She gestures to Natalie, who had fallen asleep on Anita's side. Wraith grumbles but shakes her awake and guides the confused young lady across the room.

"Goodnight," Bloodhound offers casually. Natalie's half asleep reply can barely be heard. They don't get the chance to even try to comprehend it because the moment Elliott realizes the room is no longer frozen, he hits Bloodhound's shoulder roughly. It must not be very rough because Bloodhound doesn't get upset.

"You've got some explaining to do, buddy!" Elliott hisses. He's frowning intently, very confused and in need of answers.

Bloodhound doesn't seem to understand. "What do you mean?'

He scoffs, "What do you mean, 'what do you mean'?" Elliott throws his hands in the air, raising his voice, "What do you mean, 'I have not let you pick me up'? The hell does that mean?!"

"I…" Bloodhound looks around. "I have not… let you pick me up? Elliott, what are you--"

"Don't give me that, fam!" Elliott scrambles to sit upright on the couch and push at Bloodhound more effectively. He's not angry - at all, really. He's just loud and drunk and surprised. "You're saying I've hit on you?"

"While un- incognito!" Ajay makes sure to point out. "Cognito! Ya got hit on by Elliott while you were out of ya outfit and that's not a concern for ya?"

They shake their head. "No. As I said, I walked away."

"Well- fucking- tell us more," Octavio sputters. He's got a dumb grin on that Elliott knows means trouble. "Give us the whole damn story!"

They turn to Elliott, who is looking at them expectantly. "You act as if this is a big deal. I must ask then, Elliott, may I share?"

"May you- of course! Spill the goddamn beans!" he urges. He's so close to shaking the words out of them. It's unbelievable to hear that he's seen Bloodhound before. Seen them for what they really, truly look like. He never imagined anyone would be able to see them under their mask, which is, admittedly, a dumb thought, but that's just how unbelievable it is. Then to hear Elliott actively tried to hit on them? He's positively blown away. That means they're above average when it comes to looks, and definitely his type. He hardly ever goes after someone who isn't his type, and he likes to think he's got high standards.

"Okay," Bloodhound agrees. They face to room again and taps at their mouthpiece. Everyone else is drawn in before they even start the story. "I may as well begin with the first encounter."

"First?" Elliott yelps.

"Yes, that will do." They nod to themself, then take a deep breath. "I believe it was about a year and a half ago. Well before this season was announced. About wintertime? I know it was some weeks after an Apex Game too. I went out, as I rarely do, without much to hide my appearance, even despite the cold weather."

"Uh huh, uh huh," Elliott leans in, already captivated.

"I went to a bar. I am unsure which one, but I know it was not owned by any other legends. I drank there, for quite some time." Bloodhound's voice softens and they look up a bit, as if remembering the moment. "It is not often people approach me, as you can imagine. However, that night, Elliott was not the first to. I mingled with many, but did not leave. Elliott approached me not long after I turned someone down. He tried to… make me feel comfortable, I believe? He was afraid I was being bothered, he said."

"Wow, Elliott, that's one way to make your move," Makoa chuckles. Elliott sticks his tongue out at him, offended. He's not that kind of guy.

"No," Bloodhound counters. "He really was. I recognized him quickly, obviously, so I did not speak to him. I knew he would recognize me if I did." Octavio looks like he just had an epiphany, but manages to keep it to himself. "I think it was my reluctance to speak with him that made him more concerned. He tried to get me to speak, to make sure I was okay, so I did my best to show him I was. I'm more than capable of looking after myself."

"You're telling me," Elliott says without thinking, rolling his eyes.

Bloodhound looks at him. "I did not. You would have known my voice." Elliott shuts his mouth, and they speak again. "It must have worked because you did not ask any longer. I left as soon as you looked away. I believe you did so only to order me a drink. I'm not sure. I went home then."

For a long minute, Elliott remains silent. He really can't believe what he just heard. Well, he can, but that's why he can't. He does often make sure someone isn't being bothered, and he really means it. It usually just doesn't come out that way, especially if he's had a lot to drink. Buying someone a drink after that, though? It's unlikely, but he's done it if he feels the person is comfortable and thinks they're his type. The fact that he thought that of Bloodhound makes it feel disconnected.

"This story is made up," Elliott blurts. "I can't remember this. It's false."

"It's true," they insist. "I know because I was afraid."

"What."

They nod swiftly, "Yes. I was afraid of what may happen if you recognized me. I don't wish to be seen under this mask. I will only show myself when the gods will it."

"Oh… Yeah, don't start it off like that next time. Made me think I scared you."

"You couldn't scare a fly, Witt," Anita laughs.

"Shut up, Anita! I'm perfectly threatening."

"I agree with Elliott!" Pathfinder speaks up suddenly. A frowning face is on his screen as he announces this.

"Thank--!"

"This story is not true because they did not say how Elliott hit them! False!" yells Pathfinder. His screen turns angry and he crosses his arms in disappointment.

The legends look at him confused. "Path, Elliott never hit them," Anita tells him slowly. "He hit on them. That's a whole other thing."

"... Really?"

"Yea'. Did you really--?"

"Then this is no fun!" He interrupts quickly without even an apology. "I'm shutting down now. Goodnight, friends."

The robot promptly crosses his arms just before his head falls down and his screen turns black with a little whirring sound. After a beat, a line of text appears, reading, "Sleeping. Please check back in 10 hours."

Elliott blinks at him, amused that Pathfinder only wanted to stick around to hear about how Elliott punched Bloodhound. Elliott thinks that's a stretch. He would definitely be able to hit Bloodhound, but they would also definitely hit back. Elliott's more of a strategic opponent, so he'd probably get creamed in a hand to hand battle with them.

"Can we hear the rest of tha story, Hound?" Ajay asks suddenly. There are still four other legends that are awake that actually do want to hear about Elliott's mysterious encounters with an unmasked Bloodhound. "Ya didn't actually get hit on by him then, right? He just bought ya a drink?"

"Yes, that was all," Bloodhound confirms. They're still speaking casually as if Elliott and the other legends aren't in utter disbelief at this situation. "It was about a year after that when he actively made any move."

"Get on with it," Octavio leans in hurriedly with a smile. It's possible he hasn't changed his excited expression since his bottle spin landed on them. Elliott can't say anything, he's just as interested about what Bloodhound has to share about themself. "Wanna hear all about how you turned him down!"

Bloodhound turns to Elliott as if to ask him for permission again, so he waves his hand quickly and nods. Their head tilts to the side a bit when they lean back into the couch. Bloodhound relaxes in a way that Elliott can't help but think that they're getting lost in the memory. Their thoughtful voice recounting it only adds to the feeling.

"It was summer, I believe," they begin gently, head leaning lazily on their hand from the armrest. "I went into a bar. I dressed differently this occasion, but drank and mingled all the same. It was not very long before I noticed Elliott was there as well. Actually, he found me first. He didn't seem to recognize me, and started a conversation on his own accord. It was much more difficult to try to leave then, because he seemed intent on speaking with me, even if I didn't respond to any advances."

"Not gonna lie, they're makin' you look like a desperate man," Makoa admits with a pointed look. Anita purses her lips with a silent shrug in agreement.

Elliott sputters. "I- I'm not! I'm very resp- repectbub- respectable," he argues back, a little offended, and a little called out. He really isn't the kind of man to try to push conversation with someone who doesn't want to. At the same time, he knows he probably would if he really liked them. Which is hard to swallow considering Bloodhound is describing that situation while simultaneously saying they hadn't even said a word to him.

With a red face, Elliott frowns and crosses his arms. He slumps into the corner of the couch and listens as Bloodhound makes him sound desperate and overbearing, knowing full well he just might've been. "Go on then, tell everyone your lies," he mumbles to Bloodhound.

They turn to him suddenly. They've just been staring at the ceiling for the past few minutes, but their voice is concerned now. "I don't mean to paint you in such a way, Elliott. I was not pressured by you. I don't believe I'm giving enough detail to your actions."

"Yes yes!" Octavio urges, "Mas detalle!"

Bloodhound ignores him for a second, looking at Elliott's unchanging, hurt frown. They shake their head and look back to the ceiling.

"Alright then. Elliott was trying to ask me why I looked so familiar. I believe he recognized my…" they stop themself to change their words. "I believe he saw me past what I wore… I know how I presented myself then was the exact opposite of how presented myself before. It was a surprise he found me familiar, but curious. I'm sure if he saw me a third time, he would recognize me," they add almost offhandedly.

Elliott narrows his eyes, trying to rummage through his brain for any sort of person he might have talked to twice during a night out. He can't seem to pinpoint any time that happened. He admits, he goes out a lot. He goes out a lot to pick people up, or get picked up, too. On top of that, he's probably intoxicated all those times as well. It frustrates him that he can't remember one person he seemed to have such a meaningful encounter with. It's almost like Bloodhound's describing an Elliott from some other universe.

"Regardless, he did not make the connection, and was intent on speaking to me anyway," Bloodhound continues with another sigh. "He bought me a drink, which I did not have, and… complimented me quite a bit. I believe he was trying to help himself remember. He realized I did not want to speak, but it didn't seem to bother him. He just… stood there and complimented me, trying to see if I was interested. I conveyed a kind of thanks before leaving. He didn't try to come after me, so it was not a problem."

Ajay nods intently, looking like she's been analyzing each word she hears. "So what ya sayin' is all he wanted ta do was hit on ya? Just stand there and tell you ya looked nice?"

They shrug, not really paying attention. They seem sort of tired all of a sudden. "Essentially."

"Okay okay okay, but listen," Octavio speaks up, eyes focused. "The people, men and women, I've seen Elliott with, are usually actually pretty good catches. Not gonna lie, amigo, nice work." Elliott shoots him a finger gun. "I declare Bloodhound secretly hot as balls."

Elliott slowly nods at this. "That's not actually impossible... I've got high standards, guys, believe it or not, and they're probably sittin' here, casually fine as hell, and we don't even know it!"

Bloodhound shakes their head humbly, "Unlikely. My casual attire is similar to the clothes I'm wearing now."

"I don't think so," Anita suggests carefully. She rubs her chin, looking them up and down. "You say you're at bars, minglin' with people. Sounds a lot like you're looking to get picked up. Makes sense Elliott would try to make a move on you."

"Ooh, good point," Octavio agrees. He turns to Bloodhound with a smirk, "You're tellin' us Elliott's buying you all kinds of drinks and people are approaching you. You even said you didn't do much to hide yourself even in the winter!" He wiggles his eyebrows, "That means you're showing a lota skin, compadre~"

Ajay and Makoa whistle and laugh. Bloodhound stays silent and Elliott thinks Octavio hit the nail on the head. He blinks at them. He can't possibly imagine Bloodhound wearing anything but their usual hunting outfit. He's seen them wear an elaborate, and incredibly expensive outfit made of gold and silver platings with intricate designs carved into them before, but that's only been once or twice after a winning streak. To think of them wearing something more casual - sexy even? That's unimaginable, but it's exactly what their silence is admitting to. Elliott's face breaks out into an awful blush at the idea.

Curiously, Bloodhound's head falls in what looks a lot like shyness. They fiddle under everyones' eyes and say, quietly. "I don't really... believe I look as you say. But I may admit to… going out for fun… on occasion. And dressing appropriately…"

Octavio wolf whistles loudly, which seems to spur the other legends into whistling as well. He claps his hands together excitedly at the confession, "What do you usually wear? Do you go for tight clothes? Ripped? Cut off sleeves? Shorts? Skirts? Oh my god, Hound, do you dress like a boy or girl when you try to get picked up?"

As soon as the words come out of his mouth, he seems to regret them. His eyes widen and he slaps his hands over his lips. Shaking his head, he blurts, "Shit, I'm sorry, I know you're neither and I think that's offensive, I didn't mean it!"

He stares at Bloodhound in fear but they simply shake their head with a lazy wave of their hand. "No, I understand." They lay back against the couch again with a huff. "How I dress depends on my mood. It is easier to get picked up presenting as a woman, but everything is much less constricting presenting as a man. Dressing as… neither? Seems to confuse people. I believe I pass as each equally well, however. Which is why it was a surprise when Elliott bought me a drink both when I presented as a woman and a man."

"Holy shit, you are hot as hell..." Elliott mutters. Everyone looks to him and his face turns bright red. He chokes, "I mean! Yeah! No!" He points at Bloodhound staring at him. "If I hit on them when they were pretty much two different people, they have to be hot! It's your words, guys! I got good taste!"

The others purse their lips and share looks. They all shrug and smile to themselves a bit in mutual agreement. "He's not wrong," Makoa shakes his head thoughtfully. "Adds up to me."

Octavio is resting his head between his hands, looking at Bloodhound's dirty, scratched lenses with drifting eyes. He looks captivated. "I wanna see…" he says dreamily.

Ajay sighs, laying her cheek on one hand as she gazes up at them, "Me too…"

Elliott nods, "Yeah, same."

"You've already seen them, Witt," Anita snorts. She shakes her head, "Lucky bastard…"

"I didn't!" he argues with a scowl. "I barely even recognized them the second time, how do you expect me to remember what they look like at all?"

"Hound, can you please tell us something to recognize you by?" Octavio whines, pouting and kicking his metal feet. He puts on his best pleading face that makes Makoa chuckle and ruffle his hair.

Bloodhound, who has been listening to them silently, turns away. They check the time from the equipment on their arm and shakes their head. "I have said too much tonight already," they say, suddenly uneasy. Elliott frowns, and the others mirror it.

"Can't ya tell us one thing?" Ajay asks quickly, her mouth in full pout. It doesn't stop them from tapping at their arm. "Somethin' unique about ya? Ya body mod?"

Bloodhound pauses, then tilts their head. "Perhaps one…" they mutter to themself. They glance at Elliott for just a moment, before nodding and facing the rest.

"My teeth," they say intently. A hand comes up to tap two fingers on their mouthpiece. "My canines are filed and gold."

"YOU GOT FANGS?" Octavio yells.

"However you call it."

Ajay and Makoa are looking shell shocked while Anita whistles long and low, "Damn…"

Elliott can't agree more. Before he can form any other thought than 'that's hot', Bloodhound is looking at him. They say, "Even if we meet again, Elliott, and you recognize the person you see, you still may not use this information to connect it to me." Their low, almost threatening voice has Elliott nodding in agreement silently.

Ajay thinks about that, "Yea'… You can only recognize 'em if ya make 'em smile or laugh. And that's not an easy feat."

"Yep, good luck findin' them now, brutha!" Makoa laughs, shaking his head. Then he stands up and claps loudly to draw everyone's attention. "I think we've spilled enough beans tonight. Heh heh! Everyone thank Bloodhound for sharing and then it's bedtime."

Ajay and Octavio grumble a bit but their tired eyes and lack of any real protest say they're thinking the same thing. Anita shakes her head too and ruffles their hair.

"I'm ultra sad I'll probably never see your mods, compadre," Octavio sighs to Bloodhound. He stands from the couch and stretches his arms, "But thanks for telling me all that… At least now I can imagine you super hot and know it's true!"

Bloodhound tilts their head. "I can't say the emotion is mutual, as I don't wish to see your mod. And I don't fully understand what you mean, but I will say you're welcome nonetheless."

Octavio snickers, and passes them by to head off to some other room. Ajay stands to yawn and say, "Thanks, Bloodhound, really. I know it's hard ta open up like that."

They shake their head, "It's much easier with alcohol in my system. You are welcome, however."

Ajay giggles and heads off to follow Octavio. When she's gone, Bloodhound stands to shake hands with Anita and Makoa firmly. They tell Bloodhound how much they appreciate them sharing with the group and taking the vodka shots. Bloodhound says something along the lines of how it's been their pleasure to play and how they trust the group with such details. Elliott, to be honest, isn't paying much attention. He's exhausted and is only really aware that Anita will have to peel him from the couch if she wants him gone, which won't be a problem for anyone but Elliott. He doesn't think about that part though.

Makoa soon leaves after calling his boyfriend to pick him up. Elliott can't imagine the love someone must have for their partner if they're willing to pick them up and drive them home at such an odd hour in the night. He watches Anita and Bloodhound talk moment before she bids them goodnight as well, heading off to her own room. That leaves Elliott on the couch, with Bloodhound on their way out the door. They're planning to walk home, if he remembers correctly.

Elliott forces himself to lean against the back of the couch to face Bloodhound at the door. "Thanks!" he pipes up quickly.

Bloodhound glances at him, likely surprised he's still awake, then nods swiftly like they always do, "You're welcome." They grab the handle.

Elliott struggles to stop them without actually moving. "For not hurting me. I mean," he spills quickly. They pause, so he continues shyly, "Like… when I hit on you… Thanks for not hurting my feelings and putting me down. Means a lot. I mean, if you care about that. Not that I do. Doesn't really mean much to me, really--"

"You're welcome," they interrupt gently. Bloodhound is facing him now. Just standing there, looking at Elliott's kind of intoxicated face squished against the couch as he looks over the back of it.

Elliott can't help but twitch his lips up in a smile at their words, sort of really embarrassed, "Yeah…"

"I may thank you as well."

"Huh."

They look off to the side a moment. "Yes, I think I owe you a thanks. You made me feel… accepted and… deserving. Despite my appearance. Despite my gender. Or lack thereof even. So I thank you, Elliott," they admit quietly, so quietly he can barely hear, "for showing me I can be… attractive. Even if it was only to you and you just didn't know it."

Elliott's voice is stuck in his throat. He can't seem to unpack everything they said in it's full meaning, but he understands the sentences as they're given. He means something to someone. He helped someone. That means something to him too, but he can't seem to say anything back. Bloodhound doesn't mind. They take his silence in stride and turn to leave again.

Elliott's mind blanks. He has to say something back. "Did- Do- Um!" They look at him again, probably annoyed by now. "Did you think I had a chance?" What is he saying. "Do you think I have a chance? Then and now?" Bloodhound waits patiently for him to explain. "Those times, was I… cool? I don't know, maybe I'm not as charming as I think I am… You would know. Do you think I've got a chance to see your mods if I see you again?"

At this, Bloodhound's shoulder's drop a bit. Elliott can't figure out why they do but he's mostly focused on hiding his red face and trying to forget he's speaking so vulnerably. But since they did, shouldn't he try to?

"Do not be so hard on yourself, Elliott," they tell him at last. Their voice is so calm and open, Elliott thinks this might be a different universe and he won't remember this either. He smiles but his eyes are surely sad. "You don't seem… desperate, as they say. You are friendly and inviting, which is why I thanked you. That was some time ago, but I think that I remember it is your answer."

Elliott's eyes might not be heavy from sadness, but rather from exhaustion. He feels them drift close as they speak and he's having a hard time keeping them open long but he makes sure to smile so Bloodhound knows he's listening. He mumbles, "Aw shucks…"

"If we meet again…" they say, trailing off a second. "I believe I will continue to avoid you. I truly don't intend to show myself. I'm sure you understand."

"Mmm…"

"If you somehow manage to keep my attention, however, and you somehow manage to see my modifications... I guess..." Bloodhound tilts their head, "I shall not be upset. That is how the gods will it."

"Sounds special," Elliott muses tiredly. He can hardly see them shake their head through his drifting eyes. They're amused.

"However you call it. Have a good night, Elliott."

He barely sees them leave, but he falls into the couch with their words echoing through his mind. He can only hope he remembers this night when he wakes up.