Fair enough. Thanks for indulging me. I haven't gotten anything new either.
[Most of Quentin's arrogance has been cut out of him by now. It's hard to be proud and self-assured when you keep getting slapped down for it. Having what happened 'back home' tangle with the vague life he's made here is... bitter, in a way.
He briefly glances at the kitchen with a vague thought of grabbing something to busy his hands, and keeps heading towards the couch anyways. His laptop is still sitting on the coffee table, and Steven might be able to glimpse that it's still on his chat with Steven before he closes it.]
So, how much do you know about faeries-? You don't have a reason to trust me right now. I want to give you a baseline of what it looks like when I do lie, if that would- help. Not related to Mysterio, just- related to something minor. Eye color, hair color. Easily provable as bullshit.
[Quentin keeps himself to one corner of the couch, a wing draped over the arm rest, and letting Steven decide if he wants to stand, join him on the couch, or drag a chair over from his vague 'dining' area. Despite this being his home, he knows that trying to guide things could go wildly wrong here.]
[Action]
[Most of Quentin's arrogance has been cut out of him by now. It's hard to be proud and self-assured when you keep getting slapped down for it. Having what happened 'back home' tangle with the vague life he's made here is... bitter, in a way.
He briefly glances at the kitchen with a vague thought of grabbing something to busy his hands, and keeps heading towards the couch anyways. His laptop is still sitting on the coffee table, and Steven might be able to glimpse that it's still on his chat with Steven before he closes it.]
So, how much do you know about faeries-? You don't have a reason to trust me right now. I want to give you a baseline of what it looks like when I do lie, if that would- help. Not related to Mysterio, just- related to something minor. Eye color, hair color. Easily provable as bullshit.
[Quentin keeps himself to one corner of the couch, a wing draped over the arm rest, and letting Steven decide if he wants to stand, join him on the couch, or drag a chair over from his vague 'dining' area. Despite this being his home, he knows that trying to guide things could go wildly wrong here.]