It is, and it isn't. Quentin lets the casual contact slide, and looks back over his shoulder towards the sleepers. That's not what they are, but it's the only way he's allowing himself to think about them. Like they're just sleeping, like maybe they'll wake up one day and see all of this. All of the effort and sheer willpower poured in to making them as safe as they possibly can.
Until all the protectors are gone. It's a risk each of them takes, every time they step outside the carefully maintained corridors and the almost safe rooms.
There was a curse like this, Quentin remembers. Kady found it, when they were combing the Brakebills library for clues about battle magic and ways to stop an inhuman Beast. They'd all laughed themselves sick, talking about it. The Sleeping Beauty Curse. Margo had suggested that she'd never be dumb enough to get cursed in the first place and Eliot agreed, suggesting that the only one in the group who'd be really at risk, was Quentin. Because he'd never not help a pretty face if asked, and who could argue with that? It had been fun, until someone read the consequences of letting the curse run its course, which just made everyone look at him with pity and worry.
They tore the pages out and set them on fire in Penny's room.
This isn't it, because he's tried all known counter-spells, all the fairy tale bullshit and nothing is working. So, part of the grinding sensation against his soul, is his complete inability to help.
"I don't know what I'll do if they don't," and by 'they' he means Eliot. And by 'not knowing', Quintin has this strange, almost out-of-body vision of setting the whole forest on fire, burning everything to the ground until who ever is doing this, shows themselves. He shakes his head, rubbing at his eyes with both hands.
"There's only so much we can do to make it last. We need more, even if it is from the river," with the pretty swirling lights and the whispers. Running his hands through his hair again, tugging on the greasy strands to get them to stay behind his ears, Quentin continues, "I can go, but if I go alone, I'm going to jump. It's not-- I don't want to, but. There's something about that river."
He desperately wishes for Alice, to bend the light and make them all invisible.
Looking up, Riku looks as bad as Quentin does. Face haggard and weary, the bags under his eyes large enough and dark enough to look like greasepaint in his pale face, and even his silver hair looks dull and dirty. The clothes he's managed to find or wear, are hanging off of him, like they're a size too large but Quentin doesn't know him well enough to know if it's from weight-loss or from just pulling whatever was closest on to keep warm.
"With the rationing and with the sleepers getting their share, we're down to a few days before we run out. We'll all die within a week, if we can't get anymore. I've tried to get someone on the network to respond, but. I haven't heard from the Invincible since yesterday morning."
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Until all the protectors are gone. It's a risk each of them takes, every time they step outside the carefully maintained corridors and the almost safe rooms.
There was a curse like this, Quentin remembers. Kady found it, when they were combing the Brakebills library for clues about battle magic and ways to stop an inhuman Beast. They'd all laughed themselves sick, talking about it. The Sleeping Beauty Curse. Margo had suggested that she'd never be dumb enough to get cursed in the first place and Eliot agreed, suggesting that the only one in the group who'd be really at risk, was Quentin. Because he'd never not help a pretty face if asked, and who could argue with that? It had been fun, until someone read the consequences of letting the curse run its course, which just made everyone look at him with pity and worry.
They tore the pages out and set them on fire in Penny's room.
This isn't it, because he's tried all known counter-spells, all the fairy tale bullshit and nothing is working. So, part of the grinding sensation against his soul, is his complete inability to help.
"I don't know what I'll do if they don't," and by 'they' he means Eliot. And by 'not knowing', Quintin has this strange, almost out-of-body vision of setting the whole forest on fire, burning everything to the ground until who ever is doing this, shows themselves. He shakes his head, rubbing at his eyes with both hands.
"There's only so much we can do to make it last. We need more, even if it is from the river," with the pretty swirling lights and the whispers. Running his hands through his hair again, tugging on the greasy strands to get them to stay behind his ears, Quentin continues, "I can go, but if I go alone, I'm going to jump. It's not-- I don't want to, but. There's something about that river."
He desperately wishes for Alice, to bend the light and make them all invisible.
Looking up, Riku looks as bad as Quentin does. Face haggard and weary, the bags under his eyes large enough and dark enough to look like greasepaint in his pale face, and even his silver hair looks dull and dirty. The clothes he's managed to find or wear, are hanging off of him, like they're a size too large but Quentin doesn't know him well enough to know if it's from weight-loss or from just pulling whatever was closest on to keep warm.
"With the rationing and with the sleepers getting their share, we're down to a few days before we run out. We'll all die within a week, if we can't get anymore. I've tried to get someone on the network to respond, but. I haven't heard from the Invincible since yesterday morning."