querulus | Etraya

(3:42AM. It's day two of being back in Etraya, and now that the dust has settled, Sophie hasn't found much motivation to leave the room she claimed as hers, temporary until those renovations Julian promised are in place. It's a mess in there, she didn't unpack as much as she just took whatever she needed out of her bags and let a tornado find homes for them, aside from the snack stash she keeps that has just run out. Today, pretty glitchy, she can't tell who's awake and who's dreaming, but she does need to step out of her room for some actual food, and what better time to do it but at who cares about anything this late o'clock?

She said the kitchen is off-limits to her, but how hard can it be to fry an egg and set it on some bread? Hard, apparently very hard, because while she is preoccupied with the offline game she has on her phone, the egg gradually starts to burn until the smell is so overpowering in the absence of any other strong scent that she finally notices.

Shit, fuck, shit fuck, fuck, shit. Fire off, but the smell... Does fanning make it worse? Shit.)

(Such a wonderful mood she is, and with the points she made in Aphaia, maybe she can ask Aurora to bring some fan favorites. Surely Player 2 would like some as well, and since she's in a wonderful mood, why not a surprise? That's why she isn't asking Quentin, and why she tries to shield herself the best she can as she enters his mindscape. It's... Weirdly cozy, she finds, all the books, the fireplace, and she is choosing to ignore the giant portrait of him on the wall. It's going to take her a long ass time for her to find anything, this place is fucking massive, but she sighs as she gathers courage, pats her white dress, and heels tap with no sound as she moves towards the shelves.

His mindscape is nothing like hers. Hers is a penthouse, the rooftop similar to her room on Krakoa, and all the shit she has are as limited edition DVD sets, as TV show seasons and movies. The one room where she chooses to revisit her things is empty, aside from a TV, a couch, and that's about it. This is a lot.

Sophie hums a song as her fingers move through the titles, waiting until one of them gives her a hint of what she could ask Aurora for, until she freezes in spot. The book has her name, and she frowns, arms crossed as she stares at it.

Maybe... Yes? No? Maybe?)

( He's just going to reach out to Quentin here. Hopefully he takes better to a telepathic sort of hello than Julian did. )

Hey. Got a second?

( It's a little after he's arrived on Solmara that he tests the strength of their connection and, surprisingly, it holds. Maybe it's the fact that they're both omegas for telepaths. Or maybe it's because Quentin's little psi-comm is just that good. Whatever the case, he reaches out through the connection, locks onto Quentin's psi-signature, and comes in like a shooting star across the sky. )

We have a problem.

( He's going to fall apart.

The toll his powers had taken on his body — the lengths he'd pushed himself to with having to rely on his telekinetic abilities over his telepathic ones... he's drained in a way he hasn't been here on Etraya or for a hot minute now, but. He knows the signs — knows how it feels when both his body and mind are about to give out on him and he's glad he'd managed to take down the other telepath prior to all this.

There's a sort of loud WARNING. WARNING. WARNING. going off that he's about to burn out — that he's moments away from losing consciousness and, in doing so, possibly sending a jolt of telepathic fuckery through their connection that's likely to crash into Quentin. A shooting star falling from the sky and slamming straight into the Earth. That's how it's going to feel when it hits him. Everything within him aches, including his mind, and he just barely manages to grab hold of the thread they have for a connection as he tries to navigate back to the portal Aurora left for them. )

Think I'm about to crash. Might want to brace yourself for impact, bud.

(Being dressed up in his room just feels wrong when he's already seen her a complete mess, and wow, also made her see it, too. That's the reason why as soon as she arrives at his room, it all comes off. Jewelry in her bag, now long hair in a messy bun, and whatever baggier shirt she can snatch from his wardrobe. It's pretty okay lately to be here, very surprisingly — hang out, fuck, sleep (even poorly, considering his sleeping habits include taking up all the bed space, squish to the side and hog all the blankets). It's a huge step up from literally wanting to drown him in the pool whenever he spoke, so.

Right now, however, she's taking a bit of a break with her game in her hands, focus over 9000, which means she tosses, and she turns, and she gasps, and she growls, and she celebrates, and she accidentally disconnects the charger from the plug, and she reaches the final level — and she stares at the screen turning off when the battery depletes.)

...

...

...

...

(Betrayal. Betrayal to the last degree. With disbelief slowing her down, she just sits up to stare at Quentin for a second before she can find words to convey the dumb shit she just did.)

... I. Just lost. Everything.

( At some point after the whole camp and Solmara thing, Quentin will get a message from Nate just... out of the blue. One random night. )

I thought we were friends.

(Just so there's proof of the pillow that flies from Sophie's face to QQ's. Telekinetically. Before she goes back to thinking about Usual Cuckoo Joy. Perfume. Money. Money. Party. Joy. Lipstick. NSYNC. Pretty lingerie. Rosé Dom Pérignon by David Lynch. Sunbathing.

Anything to get that OFF OF HER, and then, back to her game, just listening idly... Until Quentin goes ahead and offers Jayce how to kick her out, and he's squinting at him for it.

Yyyyyeah, time to get off of bed. Her hair is braided, which still makes it a bit messy, and since he wasn't out or anything like that, it's her own loungewear. Miracles are real.)

... Quentin. Why, pray tell, are you teaching the flatscan our business again?

Edited 2025-06-17 20:47 (UTC)

no subject

no subject