She blinks owlishly. "Yes, I suppose. I hadn't thought of it that way."
She enjoys the Enclosure trips -- loves them, actually -- but she's started to keep them separate in her mind. With Quentin leading them as much as he does, they feel almost more like healing time than work; she usually comes out of them feeling happy and energized in a way she rarely does otherwise. Even with the teacup magic, the idea of doing it herself seems impossibly far away.
She nods and flashes him a taut but grateful smile. "Less danger."
She takes a breath and nods again, reaching for her teacup. "Maybe I could
have turned into a starling during the flood and hidden away somewhere,"
she mutters ruefully.
"Well, when you take a bunch of people who are used to lying and force them to tell the truth to each other, it doesn't always go very well," she says dryly, sipping her tea.
It could have been worse, really, she knows. No one got violent with her, although there are definitely a few people who know she could take that a lot better than she lets on. She doesn't think anyone will really stop speaking to her, although there are a couple of dicey cases there. But mostly...
She sighs and shakes her head, absently brushing her hair back from her face. "It was tiring," she admits. "Very tiring."
She leans her head on her hand and smiles wanly at him. Of all the wardens, it's Quentin she comes closest to forgetting herself with. She's most painfully honest with Tommy even when she's not flood-affected, but the emphasis there is on the painful; Quentin is the closest thing she has to a real friend, a real confidante, among them.
But he's her teacher, not her friend. She hasn't forgotten the difference yet.
"I'll be all right," she assures him, leaning back in her chair, crossing her legs. "I'm just not used to it. Spies -- we're not known for our non-fiction."
"An open book?" she offers, her smile widening a little, growing warmer.
"You remind me of a friend of mine," she admits, despite the shields she still holds in her mind. "He was never meant for KGB. He could handle the pressure, but not the secrecy, even working at a desk."
"I don't really know much about it," she admits. "The... sci-fi, fantasy."
"My friend was a realist, too." Like her. Very much like her. Despite everything, she still considers herself a realist, a pragmatist. She only believes in the magic because it is, quite literally, in front of her eyes. "We don't have magicians, so he was going to leave for med school."
She falls quiet for a moment, sipping her tea, though her silence is a pensive one; she's clearly thinking about something.
"I never thought about anything else," she admits eventually. "There was never any other plan for me. Always I wanted to serve my-- what used to be my country."
"You don't need to do that," she cuts in, quickly and a little tightly. Pity has its uses, but it gets old, and she thinks -- she hopes -- Quentin knows her well enough now that she doesn't need it from him.
"My only point is," she moves on, voice softening slightly, eyes cutting away again, "how this war ends... it doesn't really matter for me anymore. Either way, I'm still without a job, without a plan. People keep asking me what I'm going to do next, and I have no answer."
"I mean, for one thing, with what I've shown you alone, you could go home and have a powerful career as a psychic. Demonstrate a couple of telekinetic abilities, do the talk show circuit, write a book-"
It's so out of left field that she actually laughs in disbelief, turning a thoroughly quizzical gaze on him. "You think I should become some kind of con artist?"
Not that she hasn't technically done her own fair share of similar things, but she shakes her head, sipping her tea. "May as well tell me to join the church and become a nun. At least this is a more respectable kind of charlatan."
"Fine. I can... get a hot air balloon and go around the world in eighty days like Phineas Fogg. Or... become a werewolf, go to California, and run my own pack."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2016-03-21 11:48 pm (UTC)She enjoys the Enclosure trips -- loves them, actually -- but she's started to keep them separate in her mind. With Quentin leading them as much as he does, they feel almost more like healing time than work; she usually comes out of them feeling happy and energized in a way she rarely does otherwise. Even with the teacup magic, the idea of doing it herself seems impossibly far away.
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Date: 2016-03-22 07:06 pm (UTC)Then she will have a solid skillset to use.
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Date: 2016-03-23 04:49 pm (UTC)She nods and flashes him a taut but grateful smile. "Less danger."
She takes a breath and nods again, reaching for her teacup. "Maybe I could have turned into a starling during the flood and hidden away somewhere," she mutters ruefully.
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Date: 2016-03-24 02:37 am (UTC)Quentin wonders, settling down with a small sigh, wincing on her behalf.
"What happened?"
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Date: 2016-03-24 02:43 am (UTC)It could have been worse, really, she knows. No one got violent with her, although there are definitely a few people who know she could take that a lot better than she lets on. She doesn't think anyone will really stop speaking to her, although there are a couple of dicey cases there. But mostly...
She sighs and shakes her head, absently brushing her hair back from her face. "It was tiring," she admits. "Very tiring."
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Date: 2016-03-24 09:15 pm (UTC)He shrugs, idly.
"-if, you know. You need to vent."
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Date: 2016-03-24 09:34 pm (UTC)But he's her teacher, not her friend. She hasn't forgotten the difference yet.
"I'll be all right," she assures him, leaning back in her chair, crossing her legs. "I'm just not used to it. Spies -- we're not known for our non-fiction."
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Date: 2016-03-24 10:53 pm (UTC)He says, watching her back, and eventually nodding. Good, he trusts her assessment of that; he also believes she will be, then.
"I guess it'd be really jarring. I mean I found it unsettling, talking about the things I try not to talk about, and I'm kind of-"
What's a nice, not too self-deprecating phrase for 'not very mysterious'?
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Date: 2016-03-25 12:13 am (UTC)"You remind me of a friend of mine," she admits, despite the shields she still holds in her mind. "He was never meant for KGB. He could handle the pressure, but not the secrecy, even working at a desk."
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Date: 2016-03-25 08:47 pm (UTC)He admits, with a shake of his head.
"It's the scifi-fantasy enthusiast in me."
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Date: 2016-03-25 08:53 pm (UTC)"My friend was a realist, too." Like her. Very much like her. Despite everything, she still considers herself a realist, a pragmatist. She only believes in the magic because it is, quite literally, in front of her eyes. "We don't have magicians, so he was going to leave for med school."
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Date: 2016-03-25 09:59 pm (UTC)He admits, with a faint nod.
"I would probably have gone into mathematics, though."
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Date: 2016-03-26 04:50 pm (UTC)"I never thought about anything else," she admits eventually. "There was never any other plan for me. Always I wanted to serve my-- what used to be my country."
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Date: 2016-03-26 08:34 pm (UTC)Quentin says.
"I mean, obviously, I wouldn't go back in time and change the outcome of the cold war, but I can imagine it must be really disorienting and weird."
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Date: 2016-03-26 08:58 pm (UTC)She looks up. "I told you what happened, yes? The FBI turning me, the gulag?"
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Date: 2016-03-27 11:44 am (UTC)He admits, with a nod.
"Most of it, anyways. I'm really sorry, if I didn't say it then."
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Date: 2016-03-27 02:39 pm (UTC)"My only point is," she moves on, voice softening slightly, eyes cutting away again, "how this war ends... it doesn't really matter for me anymore. Either way, I'm still without a job, without a plan. People keep asking me what I'm going to do next, and I have no answer."
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Date: 2016-03-27 07:11 pm (UTC)He wonders, resting his elbows on the table.
"I mean, for one thing, with what I've shown you alone, you could go home and have a powerful career as a psychic. Demonstrate a couple of telekinetic abilities, do the talk show circuit, write a book-"
It's a terrible idea, but it's at least a start.
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Date: 2016-03-27 07:25 pm (UTC)Not that she hasn't technically done her own fair share of similar things, but she shakes her head, sipping her tea. "May as well tell me to join the church and become a nun. At least this is a more respectable kind of charlatan."
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Date: 2016-03-27 07:56 pm (UTC)He says, with a grin.
"You could- go back in time and marry a prince from a medieval castle."
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Date: 2016-03-27 08:04 pm (UTC)"Fine. I can... get a hot air balloon and go around the world in eighty days like Phineas Fogg. Or... become a werewolf, go to California, and run my own pack."
no subject
Date: 2016-03-27 08:16 pm (UTC)Says Quentin, brightly.
"Unless you want to come with me to Fillory and be a were lion."
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Date: 2016-03-27 08:20 pm (UTC)"Lark told me that women are the leaders where he's from. You can offer me better than this?"
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Date: 2016-03-27 08:41 pm (UTC)He wonders, tilting his head.
"Is he how you'd werewolf?"
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Date: 2016-03-27 08:44 pm (UTC)"But I thought we were talking about fantasies?"
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