(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?
[Jayce is making his first pathetic attempt at psychic defense, and Quentin is hella petty, so he's giving the guy some time to gain a nice false sense of security before Quentin tears it away from him. Constructively, of course! But that means he needs to occupy himself in the meantime. And that means chatting with Sophie, since apparently she's clearly not understanding the Vision here.]
She doesn't even block him at this point, so of course he knows the rollercoaster that is happening in her brain. One, she's very into the pettiness and the bitchness, but that is the very bottom of an iceberg of annoyance.
He's literally teaching the flatscan dumbass how to fight her. Seriously? And it's not even working. She's still there.)
Ah, yes. Your winning personality definitely outshines mine, certainly.
[Quentin eyes her, and yeah, he can tell she's got mixed feelings. His, on the other hand? This stopped being about messing with Sophie and became about damage control after that first old familiar line: "get out of my fucking head". He shrugs nonchalantly.]
I mean, in terms of making telepaths look good, yeah. Relax, I've got it handled.
(So that he knows. Besides, he fucks her up and she glitches? Oof. Clearly, using her as a guinea pig for anti-telepathic measures, how can she not be mad at him?)
[Quentin considers leaving it at that. Doesn't seem like Sophie's going to fight him on this, and well. It's not like she obviously thought about any of the shit that's currently running through his head. Which is its own level of intensely frustrating, but... ugh. Fine.]
You bleed on my pillowcase, you're washing them. I'm helping us.
[And since he knows she won't connect those dots, he helpfully does so for her. And it's only mostly patronizing, so... You're welcome.]
You really wanna keep giving this guy a reason to invent psychic shielding?
(She's pretty, not stupid, Quire. She got what he meant when he said PR, but it doesn't mean she has to be happy about how he is going at it.
Sophie is bitchy, and Jayce knew it from the moment he first met her, and she's done nothing more than what he expects out of her. Quentin just going in there and making it worse? Not his best bit. He can be right all he wants, but the way he's helping is definitely going to anger Jayce way more than Sophie Cuckoo being Sophie Cuckoo.
Not to mention that, yes, love when a guy she likes on occasion throws her under the bus for a massive migraine and glitchiness that he isn't going to help care for, and will most likely say she deserved it. Just great.)
Like you're doing, antagonizing a stranger five times worse than I was, considering he's met me? Being right doesn't make you not wrong.
[Being right doesn't make you not wrong? Sure, he gets the sentiment in concept, but in this situation he's definitely not wrong.
Probably.
... Yeah no he's definitely not wrong. Sorry not sorry.
Quentin rolls his eyes.]
Please, you know this doesn't even count as "antagonizing" by my standards. Besides, I'm helping him. You heard how he changed his tune when I offered something he wanted. That's how this shit works. We help them, they need us, they don't build sentinels. It's the whole X-Men shtick.
(Meaning: not everyone can handle QQ light. He is a lot, even on a good day. She can handle it, random dude he is talking to? X for doubt.)
You mean when you shook him to tell you something you wanted to hear first, and when it disappointed you, you kept shaking him until some change fell out of his pocket? Fine, help the flatscan, I get what you're doing, that part is fine. I'm just saying you look as bad as me right now, even if you're helping.
Yeah, I'm helping. Instead of just going "all your brain are belong to me" until he got freaked out enough to throw some annoying shit at you in self-defense.
[Why is he not surprised she doesn't get this? Sigh.]
You scared him, Sophie. You cornered a dog, and he bit you.
[Quentin shrugs.]
I'm an asshole, but I'm not an asshole that's scaring him.
(His saving grace for hearing all about how she did nothing much is... Kamala Khan. As it usually is. She did gently tell Sophie off before over the same shit, because Sophie just can't understand how to be normal, and if Kamala and Quentin are saying the same shit, it means... Ugh, he's right.
Fucking hell.)
Fine, heard and understood.
(Apologize? No. Maybe. Needed? Not sure. Apologize??? She's bad at it. Maybe it's implicit enough that she doesn't have to do it herself.
[Watching her process "empathy" would be funny if it wasn't making more work for him. And... okay, fine, at least she seems to kinda get it now. A little.
And then she... apologizes? Is that what that was? Quentin squints his eyes quizzically.]
Why're you telling me?
[Whatever, not important. He waves it off dismissively.]
Honestly, you should be thanking me. As should he, for that matter. Ungrateful little freak you found yourself. And not as interesting as I hoped, tragically.
(Someone explain to her how is this man so intelligent and yet so fucking stupid. She's apologizing exactly because she made work for him.
Cripes, she sometimes just wants to shake him.
But he wants to dismiss it, and wave it off, then fine. She's not talking, her eyes rolling and her arms crossing not for the words he gives, but fine, for that, too.)
Welcome to the flatscans of Etraya. Let me know when he's ready to give me a whammy.
(Yeah, she's out of that chair right now, not to kill him.
Fucking idiot. Not a day goes by that she doesn't want to shake him into oblivion. Instead, it's to her side of the bed she returns to, to be pissy on her own. By not leaving his room. Because this is normal.)
He's basically this huge nerd scientist who's really hot and kinda charismatic, so this chick pushed him into, you know, taking over a high political spot he definitely shouldn't hold. So, yeah, he has guards. I'm going back to my game now.
Right, right, yeah, okay, that's boring, though. Politics on some fuck-off other universe with some-bastard and what's-her-face, who gives a shit. I wanted intellectual stimulation, not himbo-in-disguise who's also a simp for magic bullshit.
[He waves his hands emphatically at her, as though she is clearly on the same wavelength as him and fully agrees. Which he knows is not true, but you know.
This is what you get when you decide to spend your free time around Quentin Quire.]
Anyway, he's not completely hopeless, at least. His psychic defenses are hot garbage unless he's pissed off, though. You should help him with that, since you're so invested in his life or whatever.
[~*~says it sarcastically but actually means it~*~]
(She was so ready to drop this conversation, she's already so annoyed, but he keeps going on. Cannot believe this bitch is making her look up from her portable, only to roll her eyes at him.)
That's on you for being nosy; it's got nothing to do with me.
(Says she, who started this by being nosy, but look, she didn't promise Quire shit??? He just went in???)
Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'll help him, alright? Make him work for it and everything.
(He is having his enrichment, she isn't murdering him, but instead, letting him humble her, so APPRECIATE IT, hoe.
Her eyes roll, although that means very little considering they're glowing white and she's off doing this stupid bit. Like she promised, she'll even make the fucking flatscan work for it.
Jayce doesn't manage a nosebleed out of her, but a relentless migraine and tinnitus? Granted, and she winces from pain in her spot on the bed before hiding her head under the pillows. In this disco ball of a room. Too much, too much.)
I fucking hate you so fucking much, Quire, holy shit.
(Muffled from under the pillow, she's gonna need a hot minute. This sucks.)
[Ah, yes, he is very enriched now. And very much not unbearably smug.]
Psh, I'm helping you. This shit builds character.
[Yes. Character building. Which she definitely asked for.
If she was close enough, he'd pat her on the back in a facetious show of comfort. But that requires getting up, and he's too lazy to do that. So she just gets the psychic impression of the concept of him comforting her or whatever. That's close enough, right?]
(She needs just a hot minute, and there he is, there-there-ing her in her brain. If she sucks, he sucks too, he better not forget it, and she gives him the equivalent of a wave of dismissal. Bitch. If you wanna comfort her, you have two very functional legs that you can use to walk over here yourself, Quire. 1 for Effort.
Very slowly, she sits back again, fingers pressed against her temples in a futile attempt to soothe her headache.)
There are other ways to help that don't include a migraine.
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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?
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Uh, it's called PR.
[Obviously.]
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She doesn't even block him at this point, so of course he knows the rollercoaster that is happening in her brain. One, she's very into the pettiness and the bitchness, but that is the very bottom of an iceberg of annoyance.
He's literally teaching the flatscan dumbass how to fight her. Seriously? And it's not even working. She's still there.)
Ah, yes. Your winning personality definitely outshines mine, certainly.
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I mean, in terms of making telepaths look good, yeah. Relax, I've got it handled.
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(So that he knows. Besides, he fucks her up and she glitches? Oof. Clearly, using her as a guinea pig for anti-telepathic measures, how can she not be mad at him?)
Yeah, right. Never been calmer.
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You bleed on my pillowcase, you're washing them. I'm helping us.
[And since he knows she won't connect those dots, he helpfully does so for her. And it's only mostly patronizing, so... You're welcome.]
You really wanna keep giving this guy a reason to invent psychic shielding?
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Sophie is bitchy, and Jayce knew it from the moment he first met her, and she's done nothing more than what he expects out of her. Quentin just going in there and making it worse? Not his best bit. He can be right all he wants, but the way he's helping is definitely going to anger Jayce way more than Sophie Cuckoo being Sophie Cuckoo.
Not to mention that, yes, love when a guy she likes on occasion throws her under the bus for a massive migraine and glitchiness that he isn't going to help care for, and will most likely say she deserved it. Just great.)
Like you're doing, antagonizing a stranger five times worse than I was, considering he's met me? Being right doesn't make you not wrong.
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Probably.
... Yeah no he's definitely not wrong. Sorry not sorry.
Quentin rolls his eyes.]
Please, you know this doesn't even count as "antagonizing" by my standards. Besides, I'm helping him. You heard how he changed his tune when I offered something he wanted. That's how this shit works. We help them, they need us, they don't build sentinels. It's the whole X-Men shtick.
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(Meaning: not everyone can handle QQ light. He is a lot, even on a good day. She can handle it, random dude he is talking to? X for doubt.)
You mean when you shook him to tell you something you wanted to hear first, and when it disappointed you, you kept shaking him until some change fell out of his pocket? Fine, help the flatscan, I get what you're doing, that part is fine. I'm just saying you look as bad as me right now, even if you're helping.
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[Why is he not surprised she doesn't get this? Sigh.]
You scared him, Sophie. You cornered a dog, and he bit you.
[Quentin shrugs.]
I'm an asshole, but I'm not an asshole that's scaring him.
1/2
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Fucking hell.)
Fine, heard and understood.
(Apologize? No. Maybe. Needed? Not sure. Apologize??? She's bad at it. Maybe it's implicit enough that she doesn't have to do it herself.
There's a lump on her throat. Goddamnit.)
... My bad.
(Nailed it.)
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And then she... apologizes? Is that what that was? Quentin squints his eyes quizzically.]
Why're you telling me?
[Whatever, not important. He waves it off dismissively.]
Honestly, you should be thanking me. As should he, for that matter. Ungrateful little freak you found yourself. And not as interesting as I hoped, tragically.
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Cripes, she sometimes just wants to shake him.
But he wants to dismiss it, and wave it off, then fine. She's not talking, her eyes rolling and her arms crossing not for the words he gives, but fine, for that, too.)
Welcome to the flatscans of Etraya. Let me know when he's ready to give me a whammy.
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Yeah, yeah. Don't worry, you'll know.
[Slightly ominous? Yes. Yes, it is. Don't worry about it.]
Ugh, you didn't tell me he was some kinda hoity-toity bourgeoisie type. Really? He had guards to escort people out?
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Fucking idiot. Not a day goes by that she doesn't want to shake him into oblivion. Instead, it's to her side of the bed she returns to, to be pissy on her own. By not leaving his room. Because this is normal.)
He's basically this huge nerd scientist who's really hot and kinda charismatic, so this chick pushed him into, you know, taking over a high political spot he definitely shouldn't hold. So, yeah, he has guards. I'm going back to my game now.
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[He waves his hands emphatically at her, as though she is clearly on the same wavelength as him and fully agrees. Which he knows is not true, but you know.
This is what you get when you decide to spend your free time around Quentin Quire.]
Anyway, he's not completely hopeless, at least. His psychic defenses are hot garbage unless he's pissed off, though. You should help him with that, since you're so invested in his life or whatever.
[~*~says it sarcastically but actually means it~*~]
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That's on you for being nosy; it's got nothing to do with me.
(Says she, who started this by being nosy, but look, she didn't promise Quire shit??? He just went in???)
Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'll help him, alright? Make him work for it and everything.
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[Yes. Obviously. But he's being smug and patronizing. Because it's enrichment for him. Let him have enrichment, Sophie!!]
Cool, well, you're up. Have fun!
[And now he's making finger guns at her. It's enrichment, Sophie.]
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Her eyes roll, although that means very little considering they're glowing white and she's off doing this stupid bit. Like she promised, she'll even make the fucking flatscan work for it.
Jayce doesn't manage a nosebleed out of her, but a relentless migraine and tinnitus? Granted, and she winces from pain in her spot on the bed before hiding her head under the pillows. In this disco ball of a room. Too much, too much.)
I fucking hate you so fucking much, Quire, holy shit.
(Muffled from under the pillow, she's gonna need a hot minute. This sucks.)
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Psh, I'm helping you. This shit builds character.
[Yes. Character building. Which she definitely asked for.
If she was close enough, he'd pat her on the back in a facetious show of comfort. But that requires getting up, and he's too lazy to do that. So she just gets the psychic impression of the concept of him comforting her or whatever. That's close enough, right?]
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Very slowly, she sits back again, fingers pressed against her temples in a futile attempt to soothe her headache.)
There are other ways to help that don't include a migraine.
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Took you two times getting booted out of Keller's brain before you listened, right?
[And no, he's still not getting up. This is tough love.]
Just saying, kinda seems like migraine is the best way you learn.
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Her index finger points up, the clear sign of 'acshually' before she does, indeed, acshually.)
To be fair, Laura asked me to do it the first time, in what universe do I say 'no' to Laura?
(Hello?????)
... Look, fine, okay. Fine, I deserved this one, too.