Quentin ignores it. Doesn't shut her out of his head, but he doesn't give her much to look at either, not unless she decides to go digging. Well. Okay. He doesn't fully ignore it.]
/You can keep staring all you want. We're not talking about it./
(Says she, who too is impossible. Both are impossible, and they're stuck in impossible hell.
She sighs, going back to her eggs, although she's much less energetic than before. It's awkward, and it was actually not bad before. Not like it is exactly what keeps happening to them.
But last time, it wasn't horrible after they got at it, either. Maybe, she can salvage their late night instead of them going to their respective rooms and being grumpy and overthinky.)
[No comment on the "impossible" thing. He isn't in the mood to explain his feelings to Sophie Cuckoo of all people. He's silent for a while... until she asks about his plans for the rest of the night. Well. Morning at this point. Early, early morning. He pauses. Thinks. Looks at her with weary eyes.]
(Why does he do this to himself, he's obviously exhausted — if not of her, simply because it's late, or early.
Her sleep is fucked, she's aware of this. Hell, he probably knows she slept all afternoon into early evening today, her sad girl phase over not being with Kamala, not helping David at NYX, her lack of a hivemind, shitty powers, worries, loneliness, the impossibility to text tarnishedmoodring, ah, those things pile, but she's starting to accept it. A little. Or else, she wouldn't have even accepted that egg, would she? Moody and difficult, and unfortunately, she knows it.)
/I'm going to change and I'm going to go play some games at the arcade. You should rest, but if you want to, I'd like the company./
[Why does he do this to himself? Not to get a date or attention or any of that bullshit. That's well-established by this point. They talked about it. He moved on.
Then why?
Because he thinks about leaving Sophie alone to wallow in her misery, and he just. Can't stand by and let it happen. Does that make him empathic? Or a sucker. Unclear.
Anyway, he's too distracted to think about that any further because there's a certain Thing she just said. Quentin frowns in confusion.]
(That... It was not what she expected him to take from her sentence. Maybe, you know. He'd go to bed, and she'd be upset and feel lonely if he did, although it would be the best thing for him.
... But, since they're here, well. Her eyes squint, does she trust him with confidential information, bigger than her thoughts on Nate Grey, or even her bitter feelings towards, well, everything? ... Yeah. Ugh, fuck, she does. Her TK brings back her phone into her hands, and she raises a finger to tell him to hold up as she accesses her messages with her gaming rival. When she hands him the phone, it's a printscreen of her absurd high rank in Summoner's, because:)
(She was expecting him to make fun of her, or at least echo the same sentiment everyone in NYX has, the Is Sophie Cuckoo Okay Actually, but she feels... Nothing but good things. There's a bright smile that comes as a reaction to it, and she snorts a little.)
/Yep, and I taught Ms. Marvel, too, but she doesn't appreciate the fact that losing is an illusion that comes from accepting it in the first place./
(Oh, Quentin, you were doing good, and now she's rolling her eyes at him, although not all mean-spirited. He's right, and Kamala probably would agree with him that Sophie, the girl she met a few weeks ago, would call Kamala out for saying the same shit immediately.
Correct. That girl is not wholly this girl, though.
Ugh, she really is a nerd. God, she's getting called a nerd by Quentin Quire. Quentin. Quire. What has this world become. What has she become.)
/Yeah, well. Ugh. Get used to it, guess that's where I'm at right now. Are you coming, or do I gotta kick ass alone?/
[So here's the thing. Quentin would much rather go back to bed. He's tired, and as funny as it is to think about Sophie Cuckoo playing arcade games, he's also not... particularly excited about this much "quality" time with her, mainly because every conversation he has with her is littered with a metric fuckton of baggage and awkwardness. Sure, if he did go back to bed, his chances of actually sleeping would be slim, but at least he would spare himself the inevitable embarrassment.
He sighs and gets up from his seat.]
/Sure, why not. Might as well see your pro gamer skills in action, right?/
(And she agrees that he should go back to bed, or at least try — but she gave him a choice, and he chose to come with her. God knows why, she doesn't, and she doesn't wanna look into it either. Wherever they stand, she too senses just how delicate it is. One wrong word, one misplaced feeling, and they're most likely back to arguing.
But in some weird, fucked up way, she doesn't feel as alone when he's around. She won't complain if being around her is what he chooses to do.)
/... You're not gonna let me live this down, are you? I'll meet you here in a bit./
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Quentin ignores it. Doesn't shut her out of his head, but he doesn't give her much to look at either, not unless she decides to go digging. Well. Okay. He doesn't fully ignore it.]
/You can keep staring all you want. We're not talking about it./
no subject
(Says she, who too is impossible. Both are impossible, and they're stuck in impossible hell.
She sighs, going back to her eggs, although she's much less energetic than before. It's awkward, and it was actually not bad before. Not like it is exactly what keeps happening to them.
But last time, it wasn't horrible after they got at it, either. Maybe, she can salvage their late night instead of them going to their respective rooms and being grumpy and overthinky.)
/Do you have plans to actually sleep tonight?/
no subject
/What did you have in mind./
no subject
Her sleep is fucked, she's aware of this. Hell, he probably knows she slept all afternoon into early evening today, her sad girl phase over not being with Kamala, not helping David at NYX, her lack of a hivemind, shitty powers, worries, loneliness, the impossibility to text tarnishedmoodring, ah, those things pile, but she's starting to accept it. A little. Or else, she wouldn't have even accepted that egg, would she? Moody and difficult, and unfortunately, she knows it.)
/I'm going to change and I'm going to go play some games at the arcade. You should rest, but if you want to, I'd like the company./
no subject
Then why?
Because he thinks about leaving Sophie alone to wallow in her misery, and he just. Can't stand by and let it happen. Does that make him empathic? Or a sucker. Unclear.
Anyway, he's too distracted to think about that any further because there's a certain Thing she just said. Quentin frowns in confusion.]
/You play arcade games?/
no subject
... But, since they're here, well. Her eyes squint, does she trust him with confidential information, bigger than her thoughts on Nate Grey, or even her bitter feelings towards, well, everything? ... Yeah. Ugh, fuck, she does. Her TK brings back her phone into her hands, and she raises a finger to tell him to hold up as she accesses her messages with her gaming rival. When she hands him the phone, it's a printscreen of her absurd high rank in Summoner's, because:)
/Surprise, nerd./
no subject
There's a flicker of surprised appreciation that can be easily felt telepathically and is reflected in the way his eyes widen ]
/Wait, you play Summoner's? I don't even play Summoner's./
no subject
/Yep, and I taught Ms. Marvel, too, but she doesn't appreciate the fact that losing is an illusion that comes from accepting it in the first place./
no subject
/Holy shit, that's the nerdiest thing I think you've ever said./
no subject
Correct. That girl is not wholly this girl, though.
Ugh, she really is a nerd. God, she's getting called a nerd by Quentin Quire. Quentin. Quire. What has this world become. What has she become.)
/Yeah, well. Ugh. Get used to it, guess that's where I'm at right now. Are you coming, or do I gotta kick ass alone?/
no subject
He sighs and gets up from his seat.]
/Sure, why not. Might as well see your pro gamer skills in action, right?/
no subject
But in some weird, fucked up way, she doesn't feel as alone when he's around. She won't complain if being around her is what he chooses to do.)
/... You're not gonna let me live this down, are you? I'll meet you here in a bit./
(She's not gonna go out in PJs.)