Alright, okay? It's-- it's fine, you just sounded like maybe you wanted a way out and? And that's fine. Whatever. You can-- [Quentin throws his hands up in the air, like - fine. Before shoving them in to his hair again, to tuck at it and try to make it stick behind his ears. It never does. It just falls in to his face half a second after his hands fall to his sides, clenching.]
No, that's-- no. At least where I come from? It's explained pretty much by the gods being dicks? I mean, they made up a lot of crazy shit, just because they were bored or because it was a Tuesday. The air in Fillory is 0,2% Opium. Yup, just being there gets you high and addicted. Which is a dick move all around.
[This isn't Fillory, it's probably not even earth, since the stars are different and the circumstances for the spells keep getting shifted around. Like, the position of the moon or the water, is fluctuating. Or not earth.
Magical theory had always been more Julia's thing than his, but Quentin was good - no, he was fucking brilliant- at the theoretic math involved in getting the spell right, and all of his calculations still fell short.
It was annoying, it was frustrating and it was getting on his last nerve. Just like this whole place was - just an endless puzzle with no solution, all riddles and no answers.
He wipes a hand over his face.]
So, I guess I'm saying, there isn't light because some god didn't want there to be. Because they're an asshole.
Trust? That's-- shit. [Not as an answer, but an exclamation, because these last few days has really showed him that he can't trust anything. Not himself, not his own eyes.] I don't even trust myself all that much right now? And-- and I'm not sure-- but yeah, fine. It's fine. You care and it's-- yeah, it's fine.
So-- so maybe I tie something around my lantern? You can pull it back if. Or, around me? Can you pull me? [Quentin frowns critically at Peter, looking him over. He's tall. Ish. But wiry. More like someone who runs two miles on Saturdays because his girlfriend wants him to, than someone who works out. That might just be the shirts, though, but. He doubts it.
He frowns at Peter a little more.]
That's never going to work. But-- even if I die? If you get my lantern out, I'll be alright? Right? That's what it says. I'll come back. So, it's not really that big of a deal.
no subject
No, that's-- no. At least where I come from? It's explained pretty much by the gods being dicks? I mean, they made up a lot of crazy shit, just because they were bored or because it was a Tuesday. The air in Fillory is 0,2% Opium. Yup, just being there gets you high and addicted. Which is a dick move all around.
[This isn't Fillory, it's probably not even earth, since the stars are different and the circumstances for the spells keep getting shifted around. Like, the position of the moon or the water, is fluctuating. Or not earth.
Magical theory had always been more Julia's thing than his, but Quentin was good - no, he was fucking brilliant- at the theoretic math involved in getting the spell right, and all of his calculations still fell short.
It was annoying, it was frustrating and it was getting on his last nerve. Just like this whole place was - just an endless puzzle with no solution, all riddles and no answers.
He wipes a hand over his face.]
So, I guess I'm saying, there isn't light because some god didn't want there to be. Because they're an asshole.
Trust? That's-- shit. [Not as an answer, but an exclamation, because these last few days has really showed him that he can't trust anything. Not himself, not his own eyes.] I don't even trust myself all that much right now? And-- and I'm not sure-- but yeah, fine. It's fine. You care and it's-- yeah, it's fine.
So-- so maybe I tie something around my lantern? You can pull it back if. Or, around me? Can you pull me? [Quentin frowns critically at Peter, looking him over. He's tall. Ish. But wiry. More like someone who runs two miles on Saturdays because his girlfriend wants him to, than someone who works out. That might just be the shirts, though, but. He doubts it.
He frowns at Peter a little more.]
That's never going to work. But-- even if I die? If you get my lantern out, I'll be alright? Right? That's what it says. I'll come back. So, it's not really that big of a deal.