"No no no..." Quentin muttered to himself, as he checked all over and all through his messenger bag and darted his eyes around the City. "This is definitely not 1942. Fuck." Great. They'd messed up again and now Jules was gone, and there was no way he'd make it to Fillory.
He rubbed his face, brushed his hair back behind his ear, and sighed deeply. He'd just...have to figure out where he was. And try again from here.
Party Hard
Why had he come here? Really, what did he think he was going to manage at this party? Maybe he just expected to drink, and that- that he was managing. He stood in a corner and rolled a coin in his fingers, occasionally watching the proceedings, but mostly just wishing he was back home.
He was at least dressed up fairly nice, looking far more put together than he actually felt. If only he wasn't hunching his shoulders and leaning against the wall, someone might actually think he'd wanted to talk to people.
Trouble
"Look man, you've got to leave me alone, okay?" One of the locals was very curious about the book he'd been reading, and everyone else that was nearby had mysteriously vacated the area. Quentin was not very optimistic about his chances here.
"Look," he repeated, speaking more quietly so the guy would have to stop tugging on the book to hear. "I'm a trained Magician and I know battle magic, so how about you just-" And the tugging resumed.
Unfortunately, battle magic (and most magic, really) required the use of his hands, and he wasn't going to let go of the book to do it. So Quentin could be found ineffectively kicking at the young local guy who had somehow grown as fixated with his book as he was.
Quentin Coldwater | The Magicians
"No no no..." Quentin muttered to himself, as he checked all over and all through his messenger bag and darted his eyes around the City. "This is definitely not 1942. Fuck." Great. They'd messed up again and now Jules was gone, and there was no way he'd make it to Fillory.
He rubbed his face, brushed his hair back behind his ear, and sighed deeply. He'd just...have to figure out where he was. And try again from here.
Party Hard
Why had he come here? Really, what did he think he was going to manage at this party? Maybe he just expected to drink, and that- that he was managing. He stood in a corner and rolled a coin in his fingers, occasionally watching the proceedings, but mostly just wishing he was back home.
He was at least dressed up fairly nice, looking far more put together than he actually felt. If only he wasn't hunching his shoulders and leaning against the wall, someone might actually think he'd wanted to talk to people.
Trouble
"Look man, you've got to leave me alone, okay?" One of the locals was very curious about the book he'd been reading, and everyone else that was nearby had mysteriously vacated the area. Quentin was not very optimistic about his chances here.
"Look," he repeated, speaking more quietly so the guy would have to stop tugging on the book to hear. "I'm a trained Magician and I know battle magic, so how about you just-" And the tugging resumed.
Unfortunately, battle magic (and most magic, really) required the use of his hands, and he wasn't going to let go of the book to do it. So Quentin could be found ineffectively kicking at the young local guy who had somehow grown as fixated with his book as he was.