milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Quentin's sitting at the counter with one of the brochures and a pen marking that parts that don't make sense. There are lots of questions marks and use of a few specific words; how?, contract?.

He's eating a sandwich with a soda beside him as he works, looking up sometimes to note who comes in. When he goes back home, he's going to have as much information as possible about Milliways in case he comes back again or doesn't.

His disguise is up, leaving him looking like a fifteen year old boy just one who tends to hold his back rather straight.

(OOC: All threads set before Autor's. Open until it scrolls.)
Quentin (October Daye)

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"Yes, it gets into other things that I'm not going to share. Fifteen, what about you?"

"Seventeen," Autor says, but doesn't explain more than that. "How old were you when you were made a page?"

"Why do you want to know?" Its an odd detail to be curious about.

"Well, because I want to know more about court life, for one," Autor says honestly, shrugging. "If I knew how old you were when you became a page, I'd could assume you'd spent that many years at court, and go from there."

Quentin raises an eyebrow as that's an odd assumption to make that being a page means before he somehow wasn't at court,

"For someone who likes research, you also like assumptions. How does that work out for you?"

"Not well, I'm afraid," Autor says, nodding. "I'd appreciate it if you'd take it upon yourself to correct them sometimes."

"I might in time though I'd like to know more about you."

"You know a lot about me already," Autor points out. "I'd say we're about even."

"Does being even matter a lot to you?"

Its important in his world and he thinks that Autor doesn't like being beholden to anyone. It doesn't seem to be the same level as what its like in Faerie.

"Well, to be perfectly frank, I'd rather give out nothing at all, but in general, being even matters quite a bit," Autor says, uncovering his hands again. "Does it matter in your world?"

"And how does that work out for you?"

"Isn't it your turn to answer?" Autor says, raising a brow. Truth be told, he's a little amused.

"I wasn't keeping track,"

There was no agreement on questions and he's not going to do that with Autor. He doesn't trust him to not find a loophole.

"I wasn't either," Autor admits. "It seems we're back at that same impasse we had when first we met."

He drinks most of his soda before deciding to say, "Were you involved in putting together the brochure?"

"I wrote it, yes," Autor says, nodding. "It's why your feedback was so helpful to me."

"Its nice of you to do," Not what he would have expected with how little Autor shares.

Autor watches him, trying to see if he means it--and more importantly, why he said it. He tries to keep the suspicion out of his voice when he says, "Thanks. I appreciate that. It... needed to be--well, it didn't need to be done, but I hope people find it helpful."

He's clearly a bit ruffled by compliments.

He's sincere and nods, "But you wanted to put it together?"

"Well, no one else was," Autor says, nodding. "When I first got here, I nearly starved, so I didn't want anyone else to suffer the same fate due to lack of knowledge. It was something I could do."

"You starved but there are the wait rats and Bar?"

Both of them make a lot of sense to him, he wished he knew how they got here and created them, but there's a logic.

"I didn't trust any of it," Autor says, shaking his head. "Everything was too strange. And I didn't want to open up a tab. Are you surprised?"

"Paranoia can be good, that can keep you alive but food is more important."

Autor blinks. That wasn't exactly the response he expected. "Why are you annoyed?" he asks, genuinely baffled.

"Because not eating enough and resting puts you in a more vulnerable position. I've seen it happen,"

Toby keeps bleeding and then not eating enough and its scary.