Hey, losers, I'm probably out doing something amazing, so leave a message, and I'll try to get back to you. Or just think really loudly at me. I'll hear it. BEEP.
[hearing his voice again is so surreal, and who would have thought all of her preparation and rehearsals would come undone this easily for her? for a split moment, she contemplated that maybe her father was right to have him deliver this instead of her. but that quickly came and went when he suggests for her to come back later. jinx finds her voice, and the words rush so hastily off her tongue that she will definitely bash her head against the wall later for it.]
Wait, Quentin, I'm here for you! [that might come off a little strange, so she adds:] — I mean, I have something that belongs to you. I'll be quick, I promise.
Y-Yeah! I, uh. I figured when you, uh... didn't look for me or reached out when you came back.
[jinx clears her throat in an attempt to bring all this back to why she's here in the first place, and she shakes her head in a way to get her mind straight.]
But, no, you don't have to do all that. It's... It's not that important, but uh — I just came by to give you this.
[with that, she fishes in her back pocket to reveal a key — extending it out to him with open palm.]
This is yours. There's a treehouse in the forest you built a long while ago. I've been keeping it clean while you were gone.
[anxiously, she smiles and flickers her gaze off to the door frame than his face. maybe it'll be easier if she doesn't give him direct eye contact.]
When I saw you were back, I went ahead and, uh, moved my junk out. Thought you might want it back since... it's quiet out there and, I know... hearing all of us in your head can get wicked annoying.
[that should be enough explaining, right? one would think so, but she can't seem to stop herself from talking.]
There's food in the fridge, and I installed a heating unit in there, too. 'Cause, boy! It's been a REAL killer staying in there with the weather and crap. Eh heh heh...
[That's, uh... Hmm. There's a lot to unpack here. Her body language, what she's saying, what she's not saying...
What did you do this time, Quire??
He looks at the key in her hand and back up to her face.]
Right. So let me get this straight. There's a treehouse somewhere in the forest that you've been living in and maintaining and upgrading for some unspecified but seemingly significant amount of time... but supposedly this thing is mine. Because I apparently built it. Even though I don't remember doing so. Do I have that right?
[with her free hand, she shapes it like her trusty pistol and presses the index and middle to the side of her temple. jinx "pulls the trigger", and mouths the sound effects of a gunshot, however chuckles and smiles just to indicate she isn't doing so out of morbid sort of way.]
Headshot and a bullseye, mister! — The place was originally yours, and I used to stop by a few times.
[as to why she did so, jinx will keep her silence for as long as she can about it, and she may be stretching the truth just a little. it wasn't just his, but it was theirs. but he might need it more than her right? although given his reaction so far, she wonders if he feels she is just some kooky girl, or she's trying to lure him some weird trap. jinx wouldn't blame him for thinking either of these possibilities.]
It's got pretty sweet digs, and besides, you've got to be tired of puking your guts out over the love birds every night. Unless that doesn't bother you, I can hardly stand an hour with how cutesy they get.
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Wait, Quentin, I'm here for you! [that might come off a little strange, so she adds:] — I mean, I have something that belongs to you. I'll be quick, I promise.
[because the quicker, the better, right?]
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One of the people I knew the first time I was here, I assume?
[He puts his hands up, palms forward in a disarming gesture.]
Look, I don't remember anything from then. I mean, I could download your memories, sure, but mine are gone. Just FYI.
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[jinx clears her throat in an attempt to bring all this back to why she's here in the first place, and she shakes her head in a way to get her mind straight.]
But, no, you don't have to do all that. It's... It's not that important, but uh — I just came by to give you this.
[with that, she fishes in her back pocket to reveal a key — extending it out to him with open palm.]
This is yours. There's a treehouse in the forest you built a long while ago. I've been keeping it clean while you were gone.
[anxiously, she smiles and flickers her gaze off to the door frame than his face. maybe it'll be easier if she doesn't give him direct eye contact.]
When I saw you were back, I went ahead and, uh, moved my junk out. Thought you might want it back since... it's quiet out there and, I know... hearing all of us in your head can get wicked annoying.
[that should be enough explaining, right? one would think so, but she can't seem to stop herself from talking.]
There's food in the fridge, and I installed a heating unit in there, too. 'Cause, boy! It's been a REAL killer staying in there with the weather and crap. Eh heh heh...
no subject
What did you do this time, Quire??
He looks at the key in her hand and back up to her face.]
Right. So let me get this straight. There's a treehouse somewhere in the forest that you've been living in and maintaining and upgrading for some unspecified but seemingly significant amount of time... but supposedly this thing is mine. Because I apparently built it. Even though I don't remember doing so. Do I have that right?
no subject
Headshot and a bullseye, mister! — The place was originally yours, and I used to stop by a few times.
[as to why she did so, jinx will keep her silence for as long as she can about it, and she may be stretching the truth just a little. it wasn't just his, but it was theirs. but he might need it more than her right? although given his reaction so far, she wonders if he feels she is just some kooky girl, or she's trying to lure him some weird trap. jinx wouldn't blame him for thinking either of these possibilities.]
It's got pretty sweet digs, and besides, you've got to be tired of puking your guts out over the love birds every night. Unless that doesn't bother you, I can hardly stand an hour with how cutesy they get.