"I've been drinking," Quentin says brightly, holding up an almost empty bottle of wine and he wiggles it in the air. "I've been drunk for-- wow, weeks. That is also a funny story but."

There's nothing to lean against out here, so he just kind locks a leg and tries to now sway on his feet too much.

"Autopsy. Figuring out what makes them tick." He laughs, high and clear. "Taking them apart, that's what I think they're doing. I really don't think giving them spirits are a good idea, because-- because the only ones we could catch, are the friendly ones."

He winks, "You know, the ones that help us and bring books and stuff."

"My lantern's been weird for days. I think this means I'm dying, but that's okay. It could be the spirits, but last time? Last time, no one else could see it. Everyone can see it now."