“Oh,” Eliot’s voice goes a little high as he straightens up at the realization that Jack has presumably been staring at his face while he looks at the selection of denim. It’s not entirely unexpected, he supposes, and the question isn’t rude so much as...startlingly direct, when most of the people Eliot’s met in Darrow seem too polite to ask about the deformity. And if he’s a little uncomfortable, well. It’s nothing serious.
“No it’s always been like that,” he answers after a moment. “I like to think that somewhere back in the family tree there’s a Habsburg bastard, but if you were to ask my parents or other similarly small-minded churchy folk, they’d probably say it was all down to God-“ and here Eliot rolls his eyes, just to make it clear where he stands on that point, “-as some sort of means to teach me humility. But obviously that’s bullshit.” He snorts in amusement and smiles at Jack just a little, to show there’s no hard feelings. There’s no angst about it, certainly, and he pivots smoothly back to what he’d been wondering before Jack asked.
“Anyway,” Eliot says, “there’s fitting rooms nearby, that’s no trouble, but can you really do your own alterations?” He looks at Jack with interest, not necessarily as a useful resource, but it’s not what he expected. “Of course I imagine there’s a certain amount of mending you need to do when you’re living at sea but, huh, that’s a bit more specialized, what you’re talking about. Where does a pirate learn to do that?”
no subject
“No it’s always been like that,” he answers after a moment. “I like to think that somewhere back in the family tree there’s a Habsburg bastard, but if you were to ask my parents or other similarly small-minded churchy folk, they’d probably say it was all down to God-“ and here Eliot rolls his eyes, just to make it clear where he stands on that point, “-as some sort of means to teach me humility. But obviously that’s bullshit.” He snorts in amusement and smiles at Jack just a little, to show there’s no hard feelings. There’s no angst about it, certainly, and he pivots smoothly back to what he’d been wondering before Jack asked.
“Anyway,” Eliot says, “there’s fitting rooms nearby, that’s no trouble, but can you really do your own alterations?” He looks at Jack with interest, not necessarily as a useful resource, but it’s not what he expected. “Of course I imagine there’s a certain amount of mending you need to do when you’re living at sea but, huh, that’s a bit more specialized, what you’re talking about. Where does a pirate learn to do that?”