[ Oh. Quentin blinks rapidly, absolutely caught off guard the way Diarmuid laughs. At first he thinks it's at him, and he can feel the flush of embarrassment creep up on the back of his neck.
Okay. Okay, this isn't so bad. He'll take the little monk dude laughing at him over being scared of him any day. It's not the first time, and so Quentin tentatively smiles back, tainted with only a little bit of confusion. Just a bit. Until, of course, the other reveals that he was essentially blocked from telling stories. All that embarrassment and confusion is gone, and it's instantly replaced with familiarity. If he hadn't hated himself as much as he did when he was that age, if he wasn't constantly checking himself into hospitals, he would have probably been banned from whatever an Oratorium was, too. Or the modern Earth equivalent. Or the non-religious equivalent. Whatever.
He doesn't feel as bad now. Probably because not only has Diarmuid forgiven him (hadn't he done that as he was being attacked?) but because they found a little bit of common ground. He leans forward, far less nervous, and starts pouring more tea for the both of them. ]
There are five, yeah, and a sixth one that was never actually published. [ And that had been a mess. ] Hey--speaking of Fillory, I know this is going to sound crazy, but how good are you with animals?
tw institutionalization, depression
Okay. Okay, this isn't so bad. He'll take the little monk dude laughing at him over being scared of him any day. It's not the first time, and so Quentin tentatively smiles back, tainted with only a little bit of confusion. Just a bit. Until, of course, the other reveals that he was essentially blocked from telling stories. All that embarrassment and confusion is gone, and it's instantly replaced with familiarity. If he hadn't hated himself as much as he did when he was that age, if he wasn't constantly checking himself into hospitals, he would have probably been banned from whatever an Oratorium was, too. Or the modern Earth equivalent. Or the non-religious equivalent. Whatever.
He doesn't feel as bad now. Probably because not only has Diarmuid forgiven him (hadn't he done that as he was being attacked?) but because they found a little bit of common ground. He leans forward, far less nervous, and starts pouring more tea for the both of them. ]
There are five, yeah, and a sixth one that was never actually published. [ And that had been a mess. ] Hey--speaking of Fillory, I know this is going to sound crazy, but how good are you with animals?