Quentin Coldwater (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
moderatelymaladjusted) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
logsinthenight2020-04-13 08:41 pm
moderatelymaladjusted) wrote in logsinthenight2020-04-13 08:41 pm
[closed]
characters: Eliot Waugh endlessflask and Quentin Coldwater moderatelymaladjusted
location: Grand Portal #5
date/time: April 11th
content: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
warnings: none?
[Maybe he should be feeling nervous, or at least a little fluttery about the fact that Eliot texted him about dinner. A casual offer, so easily slipped in to the inbox on the tablet and Quentin wrote several different replies, deleting all of them until he settled on the right one. A casual, friendly one.
Or, not right but... less weird? So, they were going to do this and maybe this time, Quentin's face will behave itself and maybe the sky won't fall down around their ears and maybe. Just maybe, this time, Quentin will ovary up and ask Eliot about which timeline he came from.
He should be nervous, but after the rescue mission and after the hurried meetings and maybe-covert text messages about the Hunt. About picking sides and they were pretty well defined, sharp lines in the sand underneath everyone's feet- Quentin just didn't have it in him.
Much. Okay, so maybe his insides were a little fluttery as the hours and minutes ticked down and maybe he was just shuffling papers around on the table, not actually reading anything. But...
There's a knock on the door and Quentin jerks up.]
Come in, the door is open.
endlessflask and Quentin Coldwater moderatelymaladjustedlocation: Grand Portal #5
date/time: April 11th
content: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
warnings: none?
[Maybe he should be feeling nervous, or at least a little fluttery about the fact that Eliot texted him about dinner. A casual offer, so easily slipped in to the inbox on the tablet and Quentin wrote several different replies, deleting all of them until he settled on the right one. A casual, friendly one.
Or, not right but... less weird? So, they were going to do this and maybe this time, Quentin's face will behave itself and maybe the sky won't fall down around their ears and maybe. Just maybe, this time, Quentin will ovary up and ask Eliot about which timeline he came from.
He should be nervous, but after the rescue mission and after the hurried meetings and maybe-covert text messages about the Hunt. About picking sides and they were pretty well defined, sharp lines in the sand underneath everyone's feet- Quentin just didn't have it in him.
Much. Okay, so maybe his insides were a little fluttery as the hours and minutes ticked down and maybe he was just shuffling papers around on the table, not actually reading anything. But...
There's a knock on the door and Quentin jerks up.]
Come in, the door is open.
no subject
[ Eliot lets himself in, closing the door behind him. He flashes a smile at Quentin and sets down a small bag - yes, Eliot has just invited himself to stay the night, he's lonely. ]
How are you?
[ He makes himself at home pretty quickly, starting to rummage around the kitchen for something for them to have for dinner. ]