"I don't know what to do to convince you not to keep these secrets and act this impulsively. And I do want to point out that this has happened twice this month. What else are you not telling me?"
He thinks things over, carefully. "I think I'm doing this because I have no idea how my emotions work. I've just been... I think things are fine, and the something happens and I just react. No thinking."
He gets up, realizing he's forgotten the coffee, and moving to go get it, to pour them both cups.
"Then for now, I'm not throwing you in zero. But I do have people whose input I need before I decide unilaterally what comes next. And I would be interested in hearing your feelings on it- if there's anything you think would be fair."
Beat me, kill me, put me in chains, make me clean the Barge with a sponge. But he shoves that aside. Not useful.
"I deserve something. Maybe... help Quill? Help her adjust so she's not freaked out?" It's the opposite of what he meant to do, maybe that's a good thing?
"Ok. I'm going to let you let Pagan know you're covering him for the week. I'll talk to Arthur, and find out when we should report. I'll join you for some of it- my magical projects providing."
Cradling his coffee cup.
"I'll talk to Quill. When Pagan is back on his feet be ready to lend a day or two to the infirmary, if they need. I don't think today will put too big a strain on their resources but we can lend a hand if they need. Does that all scan?"
"Okay. We'll call it- two weeks on doubles- make it three days a week, the Monday, Wednesday, Friday. And at the end of that we'll see if Quill wants to sit down and talk. If she does, we can approach that together, and if she doesn't, we can see where we are."
Searching Rawne's expression.
"You don't make it easy to know what to do, Rawne."
As usual, Quentin telling him he loves him makes him stare at his coffee even harder. "I feel... it's like a sack of cats are fighting in my chest. I feel... weak. And angry that I feel weak."
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He hadn't been thinknig long term at all. He just knew Norton's death had to be avenged. And the only person to try and talk him down had been Larry.
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Breathing out, leaning back.
"And I'm not totally sure what to do next, either."
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"Shouldn't there be, you know, consequences?"
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He says, breathing out, straightening up.
"I don't know what to do to convince you not to keep these secrets and act this impulsively. And I do want to point out that this has happened twice this month. What else are you not telling me?"
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He still doesn't have a clear picture of the blow by blow of the afternoon.
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He gets up, realizing he's forgotten the coffee, and moving to go get it, to pour them both cups.
"Then for now, I'm not throwing you in zero. But I do have people whose input I need before I decide unilaterally what comes next. And I would be interested in hearing your feelings on it- if there's anything you think would be fair."
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"I deserve something. Maybe... help Quill? Help her adjust so she's not freaked out?" It's the opposite of what he meant to do, maybe that's a good thing?
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Setting their cups down on the table, sinking into a seat.
"Does Pagan have a job?"
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"He's in custodial, still. I don't think he actually does much work."
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Stirring milk into his coffee.
"Arthur could use the support.
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Cradling his coffee cup.
"I'll talk to Quill. When Pagan is back on his feet be ready to lend a day or two to the infirmary, if they need. I don't think today will put too big a strain on their resources but we can lend a hand if they need. Does that all scan?"
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Searching Rawne's expression.
"You don't make it easy to know what to do, Rawne."
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A shrug of his shoulders.
"Maybe it would be good if you told me what you're feeling?"
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He says- for all that Rawne brought part of this on himself, Quentin doesn't like that it has to hurt.
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Quentin instructs, gently.
"It'll help with the shock."
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