And they lived comfortably ever after, boob in hand
The explanation that his stalker might have been skirting owed pay for his proclivities is a mildly wounding thought. Much as Quentin did not want an unannounced midnight masturbator, he also very much found the notion flattering in a way that, well, suggested maybe he did want the very thing he claimed not to. What a terribly confusing thing it is to be human, wanting what you hate, and hating that you want. "Is that why you think he came to my bed?" Quentin asks in the way that circles the answer, hoping Danta might placate his ego with more information. "Dodging payment rather than fulfilling dreams and affections?" A frown has started to settle, because if that's the case, fuck that little cum nugget for thinking he could get away with skimming the Dusklight. Of all the bedrooms to select, Quentin's was not one to choose if there was anything less than awe and stupor being pursued. He'd be sure to string the little cock gremlin up proper if it came to it again.
At the nod towards his pen-like abilities, ink welling on paper without any vehicle other than the shimmer of his mind, Quentin's mood vastly improves from the vengeful scowl it'd begun to descend to. "Ah, fabulous bit of work isn't it?" He grins, always pleased to show himself off. "I fear your horns and tail, beautiful as they are, might I add, will keep you from such a trick as this. Dygra does grant her ancients quite a lot of nice things, but this is something I came into in my teenage years. Certainly made school work easier." To demonstrate, his thoughts well fresh ink on the page, a bold hello staring up at Danta. "I can think it on most any surface that takes ink," he clarifies, and might have drawn a nice thing on Danta's arm before thinking better of losing his head. Instead, he holds up his own palm, and a little smiley face appears. "Although I'm sure the gilded market could make you an imitation pen," he muses. "Nothing quite so grand, of course." It's hard to duplicate perfection.
"That's exactly right," he confirms without delay at what exactly he intends to do with Danta and his fiance on the lounge. "An artist can't only give, he must also be fed. You and your beau sound like quite a meal." Especially with Gary quickly proving to be little more than an appetizer. A pleased smile unwinds the casual sit of Quentin's lips as Danta half-agrees, and he nods with all the declaration of a deal being struck. "Excellent. Well just drop me a word or two when it's decided, it'll take me some time yet to finish this." A stray hand waves at the paper beside him.
At the nod towards his pen-like abilities, ink welling on paper without any vehicle other than the shimmer of his mind, Quentin's mood vastly improves from the vengeful scowl it'd begun to descend to. "Ah, fabulous bit of work isn't it?" He grins, always pleased to show himself off. "I fear your horns and tail, beautiful as they are, might I add, will keep you from such a trick as this. Dygra does grant her ancients quite a lot of nice things, but this is something I came into in my teenage years. Certainly made school work easier." To demonstrate, his thoughts well fresh ink on the page, a bold hello staring up at Danta. "I can think it on most any surface that takes ink," he clarifies, and might have drawn a nice thing on Danta's arm before thinking better of losing his head. Instead, he holds up his own palm, and a little smiley face appears. "Although I'm sure the gilded market could make you an imitation pen," he muses. "Nothing quite so grand, of course." It's hard to duplicate perfection.
"That's exactly right," he confirms without delay at what exactly he intends to do with Danta and his fiance on the lounge. "An artist can't only give, he must also be fed. You and your beau sound like quite a meal." Especially with Gary quickly proving to be little more than an appetizer. A pleased smile unwinds the casual sit of Quentin's lips as Danta half-agrees, and he nods with all the declaration of a deal being struck. "Excellent. Well just drop me a word or two when it's decided, it'll take me some time yet to finish this." A stray hand waves at the paper beside him.
Quentin
