the butcher of lowtown

[an independent dragon age rp account for Quentin. please read rules before interacting. sideblog]

[feeshies]

Quick Quentin and Gascard (+Joyce) comic

[lowtownbutcher]

"Care to explain why there is a jar of eyes in the fridge?" (from a very exasperated @orsino-the-enchanter back in mage circle days)

“Where else am I supposed to put them?  Especially since you won’t let me put stuff under your bed anymore.”

[lowtownbutcher]

orsino-the-enchanter‌:

“True; I can’t say I am not one of them, to be honest.” Orsino chuckled. “No offense, you know that I love you, but the things that come out of your mouth sometimes are so inappropriate or context-irrelevant that they make me want punch you or myself in the face.”  His own face lightened, though, at Quentin’s suggestion. “Not to say that last time was half bad -we nearly lost our sight from the amount of pure alcohol we consumed- but this was the best idea you’ve had in months. I think the easiest way to do this is to skip eating the apples that come with dinner and instead store them somewhere safe and cool until we have enough to make cider. Or we can skip our porridge. Maybe just the porridge, because unlike the apples, it’s always disgusting.”

“Sorry, I stopped listening after ‘I love you’.”  He grinned and leaned against the wall.  “And you can go ahead and hoard food all you want, but I was thinking it would be easier to just sneak into the kitchen and fetch some bottles of ale.  Or maybe wine.  Maker, I’d kill for a tall glass of red wine right now.”

[orsino-the-enchanter]

👄 (@lowtownbutcher, if you’re still doing this)

Orsino made a surprized sound and he froze in place as Quentin pressed his lips against his. His first instinct was to push him away, but he stopped himself and remained still; neither reciprocating, nor moving away. This… surely wasn’t what he thought it was, right? Perhaps this was okay for humans? To kiss their friends like that? Oh, he had so much to learn about these tactile customs of friendly affection humans had; odd as they were. A thought made his blood run cold: could it be that Quentin had somehow found out that Orsino’s feelings about him were a bit deeper than “just friendship”? Perhaps he had, and this was his way of mocking him; kissing him just to see what his reaction would be so he could make fun of him later? He could never know. Quentin finally let him go and he furrowed his browns in confusion.

“Quentin… what was that supposed to mean?”

@lowtownbutcher

[lowtownbutcher]

“What, now you’re suddenly the expert in what I like?”  Quentin laughed, obviously relying on humor to deflect which was a go-to instinct of his.  Most of his relations in the past have been with women, which, with the Circle’s lack of privacy, Orsino was unfortunately well aware of.  But there was always something empty about those encounters.  He never had a chance to make a connection with any of them.  Orsino on the other hand, he helped to fill that need for emotional connection he never had in Starkhaven.  Someone to laugh with, someone who understood him and his interests, someone who was good at sitting still for long periods of time while he drew him.  Quentin trusted Orsino more than anyone else in the Circle and he felt himself continuously trying to chase that connection.

“But in all seriousness,” Quentin backed away to a respectable distance.  Well, respectable from Quentin’s perspective.  He knew that it still felt too close to Orsino.  “I don’t mean to overstep any boundaries and I value our friendship too much to ruin it.  If you’re not interested, we can just forget this whole thing ever happened.”  He laughed again out of instinct.  Maker, how was his skittish cell mate making him flustered?

[lowtownbutcher]

Post canon thread

[orsino-the-enchanter]

“I never thought I’d actually use it either. But desperate times call for desperate measures, as you well know.” His mind wandered to the person he was before all hell broke loose and the weight of so many lives -and now, the world- befell his shoulders. How ridiculously reluctant and cautious he was. Blood magic and necromancy he only had an academic, theoretical interest for; always the menticulous, studious one; whereas Quentin was always the one to get his hands dirty -literally and metaphorically. To him, it was his passion; to Orsino it was merely another tool he learned how to wield in secret in hopes it would come in handy at some point. If only that past version of him saw him now; depending on necromancy for his survival and practicing blood magic with the same ease he used to fling fireballs. He was dead, and somehow not dead; a relic from a long lost past with dead voices whispering in his mind and a wrecked mosaic of a body filled with scars, bones and mystical seals. What was even more disturbing though, was the thought that the past Quentin would be ecstatic if he saw him like that, as much as past him would be horrified. The sheer idea made him shudder.

Yet, at Quentin’s question Orsino paused his ministrations and stared at him with an expression as solemn as his black, undead eyes.  “Us..?” he echoed hollowly. “There is no “us”, Quentin. The “us” died along with Revka; since then, I can barely recognize you. And why don’t you just say it? Your life force was tied to Revka; not the creature; her. Once she died, your life was over. Creators, sometimes I do wish I died in her stead if it meant it saved you and our friendship, because that is what loving someone is about, Quentin: being happy that the person you love is happy, even if that does not include you in the picture! But I guess that’s fine print for you; if it wasn’t, you wouldn’t become a serial killer to bring her back through necromancy, nor would you think that I was trying to replace her. I suppose it does not matter to you anyway; you succeeded after all. Even though your stabbing failed to do its job, the spell you gave me in exchange for the research did kill me. I suppose knowing that is solace enough.”

However, despite his own bitterness, he knew Quentin was not wrong to be confused -gods knew, he was too. Despite his words, Orsino knew well that from the two of them Quentin considered his survival “unfortunate” even more than him -if he were dead he’d join Revka in the Afterlife, or so he thought… What good would it do if he told him that afterlife did not exist? Quentin would probably lose all his remaining will to live; and that was too harsh of a punishment, even for him. Why was it that he saved his life, again..? A part of Orsino still scowled at his decision, but another part, the part which cared deeply for Quentin in the past, was weeping at what had become of the man who he once thought as his best friend. This empty shell was Quentin no more, he forced himself to remember. His face might be painfully familiar, but the person who lied underneath was no longer the Quentin he used to love. It was a stranger.

Orsino’s eyes stilled on the wound at his wrist that was still bleeding, refusing to return Quentin’s gaze. “I don’t know why I saved you.” he muttered. “Perhaps it was one more mistake I will pay dearly for in the future. Perhaps saving your pitiful hide has become a knee-jerk reaction at this point, I don’t know. Point is, I have built a haven… a city if you will, to protect all those mages who’d otherwise die in the current war; and to give them the chance to live like normal people; do all the things they couldn’t at the Circle. No chantry, no supervision, no outsiders; a free, self-sufficient, mage-only city. I do not think you deserve a second chance at life; not really, after all you’ve done. But you are still a mage, which makes you one of my people, whether I like it or not, and you have as many rights as they do by default. For the sake of what’s holy… get a life. Build a house and a garden, raise crops, sell goods, dance the hula, for all I care. I only know that unfortunately for you and me both, there is much life ahead of you. Do yourself the favor and do not throw it in the trash again. Or do. I don’t care.”

He ran his fingers through his hair tiredly and rested back in his chair. His chest felt heavy. Distantly, he regretted the fact he could cry no more.

“Oh, and Quentin, just so you know… I have not forgotten that you killed one of the mages I protected before. Try it again here, and I will not need any spell to kill you. I will gut you with my bare hands.”

[lowtownbutcher]

Orsino’s words continued to pierce Quentin’s mind until he barely felt anything before.  He’s be fooling himself if he claimed he didn’t feel any regrets, regrets that formed long before his “death” in that cursed foundry.  The first moment of regret happened admits the murders, when a brief moment of clarity sparked in his conscious and he realized what he had done.  The terror he felt in that moment was unmatched.  He was no longer blinded by grief.  He was aware of everything he was doing.  Even more terrifying, was the knowledge that he still carried out his plan.  A selfish side of Quentin had hoped that he could live the rest of his life hiding away from his regrets, but that proved to be difficult when one was staring him in the face.

He choked, the numbness fading into more pain.  He didn’t want to cry.  He didn’t want Orsino to assume that he wanted pity.  He had been numb for so long, with no one he could share his inner thoughts and emotions with.  The loneliness was worse than the death he thought he deserved.  The news of his friend’s haven for mages should have surprised him, but honestly it didn’t.  There was only so much good he could have done within the confines of the Circle.  He was always destined to help people, that’s just the kind of person he was.  Maker, what kind of monster would someone have to be to hurt him?

“I’m sorry,” Quentin’s voice was quiet, barely audible so he could mask the shaking tone.  “I know it won’t fix anything, but I’m sorry.  I don’t deserve your pity, your kindness, or your mercy.”  He gripped his arms, feeling his body temperature plummet with each word.  “I know I hurt a lot of people, but the person I regret hurting the most is you.  You do so much for your cause and for your people.  If that’s the only thing keeping you from killing me, then put it out of your mind and just do it.  I’ve done little to earn this second chance, and your life will be better without me in it.”

[lowtownbutcher]

get to know the mun  —

it’s the day after munday but here we go

APPEARANCE

I am over / under 5‘5“ / I wear glasses (computer glasses and glasses for social anxiety?) / contacts / I have brown hair (dark brown, black eyebrows) / I wear sweatshirts a lot / I prefer loose clothing to tight clothing / I have one or more piercings / I have at least one tattoo / I have brown eyes / I have dyed or highlighted my hair / I have gotten plastic surgery / I have or had braces / I tan easily / I have freckles / I paint my nails / I typically wear makeup  / I don’t often smile (I have resting “please come talk to me” face and it’s the worst) / I am pleased with how I look  / I prefer Nike to Adidas / I wear baseball hats backwards / I prefer vintage to modern clothing / I wear certain articles of jewelry every day

HOBBIES AND TALENTS

I play a sport / I can play an instrument / I know more than one language / I have won a trophy in some sort of competition / I can cook or bake without a recipe / I know how to swim / I enjoy writing / I can do origami / I prefer movies to TV shows / I can execute a perfect somersault / I enjoy singing / I could survive in the wild on my own / I have read a new book series this year / I enjoy spending time with friends / I travel during school or work breaks / I can do a handstand / I know CPR and first-aid

EXPERIENCES

I have had my first kiss / I have gotten drunk / I have told a crush I like them / I have traveled outside of the country / I have flown on an airplane / I have stayed awake for more than 48 hours / I have caught something on fire / I have performed in a talent show / I have shot a gun / I have been on TV / I have gone scuba diving / I have broken a bone / I have slow-danced / I have gone on a shopping spree

RELATIONSHIPS

I am in a relationship / I have a best friend / I have known a friend for over ten years / I have a brother / I have a sister / I am the youngest child / I am the eldest child/ I have dated my best friend / I am adopted / My crush has confessed to me / I have had a long-distance relationship  / I am an only child / I give advice to my friends / I have made an online friend / I met up with someone I have met online

AESTHETICS

I have heard the ocean in a conch shell / I have watched the sunrise / I enjoy rainy days / I have slept under the stars / I meditate outside / The sound of chirping calms me / I enjoy the smell of the beach / I know what snow tastes like / I listen to music to fall asleep / I enjoy thunderstorms / I enjoy cloud watching / I have attended a bonfire / I pay close attention to colours / I find mystery in the ocean / I enjoy hiking on nature paths / Spring is my favourite season

MISCELLANEOUS

I can fall asleep in a moving vehicle / I am the mom friend / I live by a certain quote / I like the smell of Sharpies / I am involved in extracurricular activities / I enjoy Mexican food / I can drive stick-shift / I have memorized an entire song in a day / I believe in true love / I dream up scenarios to fall asleep / I sing in the shower / I wish I lived in a video game / I have a canopy above my bed / I am multi-racial / I am a redhead / I own at least three dogs / I am LGBTQ

tagged by @orsino-the-enchanter

[lowtownbutcher]

PLACE IN SOCIETY

For Quentin

Bold always Italics at some times/in some AUs

✖ FINANCIAL – wealthy  / moderate / poor / in poverty ✖ MEDICAL – fit / moderate / sickly  / disabled  / disadvantaged / deceased ✖ CLASS OR CASTE – upper / lower  / middle / working / unsure ✖ EDUCATION  – qualified / unqualified / studying

FAMILY

✖ MARITAL STATUS – married, happily  / married, unhappily / engaged / partnered  / single / divorced / widow or widower / separated / it’s complicated   ✖ CHILDREN – has children  / no children / wants children / adopted children  SIBLINGS–close with siblings / not close with siblings / has no siblings / siblings are deceased / it’s complicated ✖ AFFILIATION – orphaned/ possibly abandoned / adopted / disowned / raised by both parents / other

TRAITS & TENDENCIES

✖ disorganized / organized / in between ✖ close-minded / open-minded / in between ✖ cautious / reckless  / in between ✖ patient / impatient / in between ✖ outspoken / reserved  / in between  ✖ leader / follower / in between ✖ sympathetic / unsympathetic / in between ✖ optimistic / pessimistic / in between ✖ hardworking / lazy / in between ✖ cultured / uncultured / in between ✖ loyal / disloyal / in between  ✖ faithful / unfaithful / in between

SEXUALITY & ROMANTIC INCLINATION

✖ SEXUALITY – heterosexual / homosexual / bisexual (usually more attracted to women) / asexual / pansexual / omnisexual / demisexual ✖ SEX – sex repulsed / sex neutral  / sex favorable  ✖ ROMANCE – romance repulsed / romance neutral / romance favorable ✖ SEXUALLY – sexually adventurous / sex experienced / naive / inexperienced  / curious  / uninterested 

ABILITIES

✖ COMBAT SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none ✖ LITERACY SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none ✖ ARTISTIC SKILLS – excellent/ good  / moderate  / poor / none ✖ TECHNICAL SKILLS – excellent / good  / moderate / poor / none

tagged by @orsino-the-enchanter!

[orsino-the-enchanter]

Headcanon time!

Orsino’s handwriting looks like this:

[lowtownbutcher]

meanwhile, quentin’s handwriting

[feeshies]

Revka "i’m not a regular mom, i’m a goth mom” Amell

“are you planning on doing blood magic?  because if you’re going to i’d rather you do it in the house”

It’s 6 PM and I’m just now getting to warmups.  Productive quarantine.

[feeshies]

fuck it, i’m posting it

quentin: i’m like dropping hints that i’m 6'7 

quentin: i’m 6'7

based on some circle mage pre-canon rp shit

[lowtownbutcher]

(i’m thinking about making him a secondary/alternate fc for quentin.  i do reference his vibe a lot whenever i draw him)

[orsino-the-enchanter]

👄 (@lowtownbutcher, if you’re still doing this)

Orsino made a surprized sound and he froze in place as Quentin pressed his lips against his. His first instinct was to push him away, but he stopped himself and remained still; neither reciprocating, nor moving away. This… surely wasn’t what he thought it was, right? Perhaps this was okay for humans? To kiss their friends like that? Oh, he had so much to learn about these tactile customs of friendly affection humans had; odd as they were. A thought made his blood run cold: could it be that Quentin had somehow found out that Orsino’s feelings about him were a bit deeper than “just friendship”? Perhaps he had, and this was his way of mocking him; kissing him just to see what his reaction would be so he could make fun of him later? He could never know. Quentin finally let him go and he furrowed his browns in confusion.

“Quentin… what was that supposed to mean?”

@lowtownbutcher

[lowtownbutcher]

orsino-the-enchanter‌:

“I, um. N-no, that’s not what I meant…” Stuttering. Great. Orsino cursed himself internally and his blushed eartips quickly hid themselves behind his hair. Not that Quentin wouldn’t notice -of course he would. Orsino would bet he was doing this on purpose to make it more difficult for him to move away -the wise thing to do. How could he possibly say no to those glimmering silver eyes or these sumptuous lips that were brushing against his? He was handsome -damnably so- and he was well aware of it as well. He knew what he was doing, and the worst part was, it was working. Perhaps he just wanted to have his fun, or he wanted to experiment with a man, who’d still talk to him if things did not go as planned… or, like everyone else, he was curious about how sleeping with an elf feels like. For all he knew, perhaps there was a seed of truth to all these hypotheses. “Beware what you wish for, lest it happens” turned out to be a wise proverb, as Orsino realized, because no matter what cause Quentin had, it would not reflect his own feelings about him. It was impossible. 

Having so many young people crammed within one building for all of their lives was bound to make things… complicated in the love department; even though intimacy between mages was discouraged at best and punished at worst. Falling for someone he happened to share a room with for more than ten years now was not so strange, was it? Perhaps he was thinking about it too much… or perhaps this was indeed not what he thought it was. Perhaps Quentin was being friendly, like he was when he hugged him for the first time? He remembered he had screamed and bitten him back then -to Quentin’s great surprise- and it took one whole year until he could accept a hug without squirming. Or perhaps something was completely and utterly wrong with him.

“Uh… are you… are you alright..? Perhaps you drank some potion you shouldn’t have..? Should I call a spirit healer..?” he awkwardly managed.

Quentin’s smile faded and he pulled away, looking uncharacteristically flustered.

“I…oh,” he rubbed the back of his neck.  “I’m sorry, I just thought…”  His voice trailed off.  Oh Maker, he really screwed things up.  Of course he loved teasing Orsino.  Since the Circle banned most of his interests, it was his favorite pastime.  Even at that moment he couldn’t help but notice how captivating he looked, with his large, bewildered eyes and the flush that spread to the tips of his ears, which were now nearly purple from how hard he was blushing.  But still, it was never his intention to push him into situations where he didn’t feel comfortable.  Quentin always suspected that there was something between them, but if he somehow misinterpreted…

He eventually realized that he was still staring at Orsino without finishing his sentence.  He cleared his throat and looked down at his hands.

“I just thought that,” he spoke slowly, piecing his words together as carefully as possible.  “…that you feel lonely too sometimes.”

[lowtownbutcher]

"Care to explain why there is a jar of eyes in the fridge?" (from a very exasperated @orsino-the-enchanter back in mage circle days)

“Where else am I supposed to put them?  Especially since you won’t let me put stuff under your bed anymore.”

[lowtownbutcher]

orsino-the-enchanter‌:

“Yeah, well… the Templars deserve better too, if you ask me; much like every last soul in this maker-forsaken city.” Orsino shrugged. “‘Tis something you accept, or you throw yourself off the circle tower. It could be worse, though. Imagine living in darktown, for example; eating rats for lunch and dying from cholera. Or -Creators preserve me- imagine being a Saarebas; having your mouth sewn shut and always being dragged at the end of a chain like a dog. What could be worse than that?”

However, Quentin did have a point. Although the Circle did, in fact, provide some guidance over how to control your magic, the talent of people like Quentin was wasted -criminally so- under the pretext of Andrastianism. Not even the priests did not believe all the nonsense they spewed about forbidden magic- it was a complicated way to say that they were just afraid -deathly afraid- of it. Technically, even Tevinter disapproved of blood magic -the blood-sacrificing-demon-summoning kind. However, Quentin could make a name for himself in Nevarra, as a mortalitasi. Or, at least he wouldn’t  be stared down upon for digging out freshly buried bodies from the graveyard.

“Hmm, yes, I suppose it could be arranged, given a good excuse, of course… Celebrations are good for morale. Do you think it is possible to have alcohol shipped to us, or First Enchanter Maceron will die buried under a mountain of paperwork?”

Quentin laughed, “I’ll assure you, there are a lot of people in Thedas who would prefer it if I had my mouth sewn shut.”  He craned his neck back and rested his head against Orsino’s cot.  “But okay, fine.  You win.  Everything could always be worse, so stop complaining.”

He hopped to his feet so he was standing over Orsino.

“Forget shipping, we could always smuggle a few bottles into our cell.  Or make it.  I promise, my brewing technique has improved drastically since last time.”

[lowtownbutcher]

Post canon thread

[lowtownbutcher]

orsino-the-enchanter‌:

“Indeed, it looks like I have recovered from both the stab and the harvester spell, no thanks to you” Orsino merely sighed. It was not worth lying even to himself; he was still bitter -and he had many reasons to. But now it was not the time to delve on this any further and he focused on the healing spell he was casting instead. Quentin was in a bad shape, but he was not going to die on his watch -he had already lost him once and he could not afford to lose him again. The realization alone made him hate him even more. He wouldn’t have him die on him if it meant he wouldn’t be able to kill him himself later.

“I was told you were dead by Hawke’s hand, so it seems I am not the only one who healed up unexpectedly. Should I assume you had some similar trick up your sleeve then, or the gods thought it was too good of a death for you? How do the young say it nowadays? Karma is a bitch.” he pointed out as he slit his wrist to fuel the healing magic even further. It must hurt a great deal if Quentin’s expression was any indication; he was no spirit healer and at this point he did not care enough to make it painless. He did not care either when left me for dead in a darktown sewer.

“Your spell was faulty, by the way.” he added coldly. “If one performs it, their spirit leaves the world of the living while their body is fueled by the residual necromancy even after the killing blow has been dealt. You may want to improve it; perhaps next time I try it I won’t be able to be brought back from the dead… if what I turned into counts as “living”, at any rate.”

“Still a critic, even now,” Quentin sighed and shook his head.  “But in my defense I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”  He knew how his former friend felt about his particular tastes in magic.  Everything was fine when it remained in the realm of the theoretical as long as it was never practiced in the real world.

“I didn’t plan on prolonging my life.  My life force was tied to Rev-” he caught himself, “-to the creature’s.  Even after my confrontation with the Champion, there was enough life in her to keep me alive, but barely.”  Quentin suspected that Orsino’s question was rhetorical, but he felt the need to answer regardless.  It had been so long since he’d been able to talk to anyone that he wanted to seize the opportunity, even if it was with someone who no doubt hated him.  “I was left paralyzed for weeks, but fortunately I managed to escape before my hovel was burned down.  Or, I suspect you would consider that unfortunate.”

He almost wanted to delve into those horrible weeks.  Where he was left sprawled out on the floor of the foundry, beaten within an inch of his life, unable to move or speak or cast a spell, unable to die.  Unable to avert his eyes from his creation, watching the reconstruction of his love’s face slowly decompose and burst along the stitches.  He wanted to tell him, but what would be the point?  Did he honestly expect Orsino to pity him?

Quentin winced at Orsino’s rather ungentle healing techniques, but honestly the shock that he was actually healing him masked the pain.  He furrowed his brow as he stared down at his freshly-mended wounds.  What exactly was Orsino’s end game?  Orsino was clearly the better man than him, Quentin’s judgment was at least unclouded enough to recognize that.  But he couldn’t believe that his rescue was motivated out of pure altruism alone.  He wanted to continue existing in an impossible reality where their friendship could be as easily mended as his wounds.  Where they could go back to when everything was easier.  But as his previous failed experiments proved, reconstructing long-lost happy memories was not one of Quentin’s strengths.  So he forced himself to ask the question that was eating away at him.

“So where does this lead us?

[lowtownbutcher]

Post canon thread

@orsino-the-enchanter:

"Be honest with me. Was the harvester spell you gave me your revenge that I was too skinny for your taste?" 

A younger Quentin would have laughed, but at that moment he was too weary to react beyond a shallow exhale.

“The build of the harvester depends on the amount of dead bodies in the immediate area.”  Quentin kept looking forward, not making eye contact with his companion.  “Besides, I already stabbed you.  If I were motivated by revenge, I’d say that would suffice.”  He paused to give a quick glance towards Orsino’s direction.  “Sorry about that, by the way.  But it looks like you healed up.”

[lowtownbutcher]

tagged by @orsino-the-enchanter

—    BASICS.

▸     IS    YOUR    MUSE    TALL    /    SHORT    /    AVERAGE ?

Quentin is 6′7 (~201cm)

▸      ARE    THEY    OKAY    WITH    THEIR    HEIGHT ?

Oh yeah.  Other than “weird necromancer” or “insane serial killer”, it’s his only personality trait.

▸      WHAT’S    THEIR    HAIR    LIKE ?

Quentin’s hair is naturally brown and straight (maybe a bit wavy at the end but he never grew his hair out long enough to know for sure).  In his youth he used to keep it short and combed to the side.  His hair became thinner and gray as he grew older and now he wears it more slicked back.

▸     DO    THEY    SPEND    A    LOT    OF    TIME    ON    THEIR    HAIR     /    GROOMING ?

He spent a bit more time on his appearance back in the Circle because there wasn’t a lot to do.  The time increased after he escaped the Circle because he wanted to look good for his wife.  He stopped caring altogether after Revka died.  He always had perma-stubble.

▸      DOES   YOUR   MUSE   CARE   ABOUT   THEIR   APPEARANCE   /   WHAT    OTHERS    THINK ?

[pre-canon] Even if he’s not looking for approval, he does appreciate flattery.  He knows what he looks like and he’s not shy about flaunting it.

[canon]  He doesn’t care.  He knows he aged like shit and he has more important things to focus on.

—    PREFERENCES.

▸     INDOORS    OR    OUTDOORS ? ▸     RAIN    OR    SUNSHINE ? ▸     FOREST    OR    BEACH ?   ▸     PRECIOUS    METALS   OR    GEMS ?   ▸     FLOWERS    OR    PERFUMES ?   ▸     PERSONALITY    OR    APPEARANCE ?   ▸     BEING    ALONE   OR    BEING    IN    A    CROWD ?   ▸     ORDER    OR    ANARCHY ?   ▸     PAINFUL    TRUTHS    OR    WHITE    LIES ?  His entire plan is based on white lies.  Or white li(lies) ▸     SCIENCE    OR    MAGIC ?  His ritual is more mad scientist-y ▸     PEACE    OR    CONFLICT ?   ▸     NIGHT    OR    DAY ?   ▸     DUSK    OR    DAWN ?   ▸     WARMTH    OR    COLD ?   ▸     MANY   ACQUAINTANCES    OR   A    FEW    CLOSE    FRIENDS ?         ▸     READING   OR    PLAYING    A    GAME ?

—    QUESTIONNAIRE.

▸      WHAT    ARE    SOME    OF    YOUR    MUSE’S    BAD    HABITS ?          

He tends to get obsessed.  Not just with people (although that’s a major component), but with ideas or projects or thoughts.  It’s easy for something to take over his mind and consume him.  Also he has a lot of deep-rooted fears of being abandoned, which does contribute to his obsessive behavior).

▸      HAS    YOUR    MUSE    LOST    ANYONE    CLOSE    TO    THEM ?      HOW    HAS    IT    AFFECTED    THEM

:)

First, his daughter, Joyce was taken to the Circle, which drastically changed the way the household treated magic.  The next major event was Revka’s death, which...Quentin didn’t handle well.  Then his daughter, Lily, and his twin sons, Leon and Nicolas, ran away from home.  Then his youngest daughter, Iris, was taken by the Templars.  Then Orsino up and ditched him for being a weirdo.  His fears over losing his loved ones causes him to cling tighter, which either directly or indirectly results in him losing them.

▸   WHAT    ARE    SOME    FOND    MEMORIES    YOUR    MUSE    HAS ?  

He has many fond memories of hanging out with Orsino in the Circle, but those moments were a brief respite from the constant stress of the Circle.  Rather, his happiest memory was waking up next to Revka after they were married and realizing that he finally found the life he always wanted.

▸     IS    IT    EASY    FOR    YOUR    MUSE    TO    KILL ?

It’s always been easy for him.  Disturbingly so.  It’s not something he takes pleasure in.  There often is an emotional disconnect.

▸      WHAT’S    IT    LIKE    WHEN    YOUR    MUSE    BREAKS    DOWN ?

He gets really quiet and shut himself off from the rest of the world, either looking for a solution or isolating himself.  After Revka’s death, he would go months without leaving his office.

▸      IS    YOUR    MUSE    CAPABLE    OF    TRUSTING    SOMEONE    WITH    THEIR    LIFE ?

Yes, this is actually how a lot of relationships of his function.

▸      WHAT’S    YOUR    MUSE    LIKE    WHEN    THEY’RE    IN    LOVE ?

He becomes enamored with the other person, openly so too.  He feels no shame in expressing his love and affection.  The person can do no wrong in his eyes.  It’s either sweet or disgusting depending on your perspective.

[lowtownbutcher]

"Care to explain why there is a jar of eyes in the fridge?" (from a very exasperated @orsino-the-enchanter back in mage circle days)

“Where else am I supposed to put them?  Especially since you won’t let me put stuff under your bed anymore.”

[lowtownbutcher]

“You know what I love about you, Orsino?  Your boundless optimism.”  Quentin laughed and leaned back against the wall.  “I suppose you’re right, the Circle is certainly better than what I was living with before.  But it’s frustrating to know that we deserve better - you deserve better - than being complacent.”  Still, he shrugged.  “But like you said, there are good things.”

Of course he didn’t feel completely better.  He knew on one level Orsino was right, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.  Not just being unable to marry or raise a family, although he still wished for that immensely, but being unable to practice his magic to its full potential.  He’d share this feeling with Orsino, but he knew how squeamish his friend tended to get over his research.

Quentin moved to sit down on the floor near Orsino’s cot.  

“You know,” he thought desperately for a new topic that could lighten the mood.  “Starkhaven’s Circle used to organize these little social events every once in a while.  Nothing extravagant, just an excuse for the mages to get together and dance, drink, and forget about being mages for an evening.  Do you think the Gallows could put something together like that?”

[orsino-the-enchanter]

👄 (@lowtownbutcher, if you’re still doing this)

Orsino made a surprized sound and he froze in place as Quentin pressed his lips against his. His first instinct was to push him away, but he stopped himself and remained still; neither reciprocating, nor moving away. This… surely wasn’t what he thought it was, right? Perhaps this was okay for humans? To kiss their friends like that? Oh, he had so much to learn about these tactile customs of friendly affection humans had; odd as they were. A thought made his blood run cold: could it be that Quentin had somehow found out that Orsino’s feelings about him were a bit deeper than “just friendship”? Perhaps he had, and this was his way of mocking him; kissing him just to see what his reaction would be so he could make fun of him later? He could never know. Quentin finally let him go and he furrowed his browns in confusion.

“Quentin… what was that supposed to mean?”

@lowtownbutcher

[lowtownbutcher]

Quentin pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against the elf’s.  At this close distance, it was much easier to appreciate all of the little details of his eyes.  The little specks of other colors mixed in with the deep green, the unique shape of his pupils, it was mesmerizing.

He chuckled and leaned in close again so their lips were just centimeters apart.  “Come now,” his lips vibrated against his as he spoke. “I’m not that bad, am I?”