milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Well, this is new. And that's OK! New is good. Unexpected is not, particularly, and that's why this particular young man's surprise at finding himself wandering strange corridors has quickly melted to suspicion, and then anger.

He schools himself out of it by the time he finds the stairs. He waits at the bottom of them, perfectly still apart from large, dark eyes that flit over the whole place, taking it all in with no expression on his face. Only the Window gets a second look, and when he's finished his surveillance he walks over to it and stands there, staring in mute wonder, one hand pressed to the glass.

He can investigate the room later. This is more interesting for now.

[OOC: Open all weekend! <3]

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Quentin nods, its important to not get lost,

"Good, I thought you could. I'm Quentin. Pantries are always a good place to start and we can get snacks."

'I'm James.'

Food. Well. All right.

'Come on, then. There's a kitchen down there, I saw it. There are rats too, but they work here.'

He doesn't know why anyone would ask a rat for food when the bar gives it out as well, but he's not going to admit he doesn't know something unless he has to.

"Oh, I wonder what else is here,"

There might be pixies but he won't mention them to a mortal boy. He heads to the kitchen and starts opening doors, the biggest pantry usually has the hidden doors.

James doesn't open any doors. He picks up an apple that's sitting in a fruit bowl on the counter, pulls himself up to sit on it and kicks his heels into the cupboard underneath. He watches Quentin without speaking, idling the fruit between his fingers, not eating it.

'You dress funny,' he says eventually, because while it's clear that people come here from all different places, he hasn't worked out how, or what it means.

'Where are you from?'

Quentin's running his hands over the walls to find the buttons that are always in knowes as he thinks about how to answer.

A mortal shouldn't find out who or what he is, that's dangerous, he thinks about what stories work, "Toronto and I'm in a play."

He considers this answer. He likes acting. He is very, very good at it.

'What play?'

This is odd, he's not finding what he should be and tries to remember play names, "Peter Pan."

'That's a book,' he points out.

'And a film. And a pantomime, but that's not a play.'

If you were in a pantomime, why would you call it anything else? Is he embarrassed about it? Possibly, and with good reason. Panto is puerile.

But hang on, he's from Canada. Maybe they don't have pantomimes there, or they're not called that. He makes a mental note to look it up. There's also the chance there is a play as well, and he just hasn't heard of it. He hates when that happens.

'What character are you?'

He turns around and says with a glare, he knows that its a play, he knows someone who saw it once, "Its a play and I'm one of the lost boys. I even have a sword."

This is a story he does know and he can make this work, he won't get in trouble for saying something he shouldn't.

Edited 2016-04-08 21:50 (UTC)

That's...a lot of glare for a fairly basic observation. But James is used to people glaring at him for various reasons, so he just smiles. There's less teeth in this one than the last.

'All right.'

'Where did you leave it?'

Its not good to get something wrong but it seems like he's okay for now and he smiles. Its small and a little uncertain, "In the prop room."

He can't find what he should find, but there are mortals here. Quentin grabs some cheese rolls from the pantry and offers one to James as he comes out.

He takes it, and doesn't seem wary. It's like that moment didn't happen at all. He doesn't eat the roll either though, just holds it and kicks his heels into the cupboard a few more times.

'No secret passages?'

How disappointing.

"No, but its the right kind of pantry for one too, nice and big,"

This is all odd and he starts eating his roll and looking around, its like a knowe but not.

'So you're saying that every big pantry has them, and you touch the walls to find them?'

Yeeeaaaaah, no.

'You know that Peter Pan isn't real, don't you?'

Quentin eats his roll as he thinks about how to answer. James is clever and Quentin doesn't have a lot of practice lying to mortals, he needs to get better, "Of course I do, but rats are also serving food here."

Also he knows pixies, they're nothing like Tinkerbell.

James is clever, but even he takes a few seconds to parse that one.

'You know Peter Pan isn't real, but rats are serving food here so...maybe this place is like it is in books?'

Well, it's a hypothesis. It also means Quentin's a baby who believes in fairy tales, or at least wastes time wishing they were real.

'So you can't really find secret tunnels.'

Again, disappointing.

Quentin's from Faerie, he knows what's real but he can't say, which he doesn't like. He thought mortals wanted to believe or some did, James doesn't,

"Not here, but I can find them at home."

He really doesn't. Truth is easier to twist when everyone understands the rules.

'I don't believe you. You're making it up.'

There's another smile, and he bites into the apple.

He doesn't know what to do, mortals shouldn't know about Faerie. They'll bring fire and iron, but this place could almost be in Faerie.

James is mortal and annoying and Quentin wants to show him what he doesn't know, but then he'll get in trouble, "I'm not."

'You are.'

He says it in a quiet sing-song voice, talking to him like grown-ups talk to babies.

'There's nothing to find, here or where you're from. Do you think I'm stupid?'

Quentin makes a fist, he hates this, the proper thing to do would be to walk away.

He doesn't want to, he wants to show James how wrong he is, he thinks about how his father acts, certain and proud as he says, "No, you're not stupid, you're just acting like it."

'I'm not the one making things up.'

He takes another bite of the apple.

'If you're telling the truth, prove it. Find something.'

"I will," He looks around the kitchen once more before going out into the main bar.

Once he spots the curtain near the staff doorway, he heads there, this time getting lower. If rats are the servers then maybe the passages are down lower.

James smirks, and follows him. He leans against the wall, watching, not saying anything at all.

Quentin takes his time, looking for a crack, servants are always ducking behind curtains and walls. There's a pattern to every knowe.