[Aaand there's the old classic Julian Keller "charm." Guess he's fine. Wonderful. At least he's easier to ignore when he's throwing out one of the emptiest and least threatening threats in all of mutant history.]
Uh-huh. You know, you should really be nicer to me. I did just save your ass from a billion tiny spiders. And let you borrow my personal belongings. Really, I deserve—Uh.
[And the world will never know what Quentin thinks he deserves (nor does it need to) because his stupid magic coat is beeping. He looks down in confusion at his sleeves, holding up his arms to stare at the glowing pink arrows sliding smoothly across them like they're a marquee sign and not fabric.]
That's, er... new.
[Quentin moves his arms experimentally, and the arrows shift to continue to indicate the same direction no matter how he turns, pointing down a row of books. Oh. Right. Robe of "Guiding." He glances at Julian in bewilderment, shrugs, and heads off to follow the robe's "instructions."]
Uhh, hang on. Keep an eye out for library monsters, would ya? I'll be right back.
[It's not hard to find the book the robe's magic is leading him to. In fact, he's barely had any time to think about how much he's going to lord it over Julian that he's three times the hero Julian is at this point before he's located the dusty old book, pulled it off the shelf, opened it to definitely find this stupid pearl bullshit they're after and—
—immediately gets absolutely suckerpunched by some kind of terrible psi-jammer screeching directly into his brain that he really, really hopes Julian is not psychically gifted enough to hear because otherwise they are so boned. Quentin crumples like he's been actually suckerpunched with a strangled yelp, clutching his head in pain, and oh god it feels like his brains are being scooped out with a cheese grater and all he can think is that the robe lied, the stupid fucking magic robe fucking lied, who makes a magic robe that fucking lies]
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Uh-huh. You know, you should really be nicer to me. I did just save your ass from a billion tiny spiders. And let you borrow my personal belongings. Really, I deserve—Uh.
[And the world will never know what Quentin thinks he deserves (nor does it need to) because his stupid magic coat is beeping. He looks down in confusion at his sleeves, holding up his arms to stare at the glowing pink arrows sliding smoothly across them like they're a marquee sign and not fabric.]
That's, er... new.
[Quentin moves his arms experimentally, and the arrows shift to continue to indicate the same direction no matter how he turns, pointing down a row of books. Oh. Right. Robe of "Guiding." He glances at Julian in bewilderment, shrugs, and heads off to follow the robe's "instructions."]
Uhh, hang on. Keep an eye out for library monsters, would ya? I'll be right back.
[It's not hard to find the book the robe's magic is leading him to. In fact, he's barely had any time to think about how much he's going to lord it over Julian that he's three times the hero Julian is at this point before he's located the dusty old book, pulled it off the shelf, opened it to definitely find this stupid pearl bullshit they're after and—
—immediately gets absolutely suckerpunched by some kind of terrible psi-jammer screeching directly into his brain that he really, really hopes Julian is not psychically gifted enough to hear because otherwise they are so boned. Quentin crumples like he's been actually suckerpunched with a strangled yelp, clutching his head in pain, and oh god it feels like his brains are being scooped out with a cheese grater and all he can think is that the robe lied, the stupid fucking magic robe fucking lied, who makes a magic robe that fucking lies]