"Once again. Just because it makes you mad doesn't mean it's not a fact," he signs and lets his head loll back over the edge of the seat. "Hey do you think that bar is still doling out gin or whatever?" Quentin too snaps between argumentative and distracted fast enough to give someone whiplash.

Of course he pushes it. He's physical incapable of not pushing it. "Actttttually, it means I'm so far above it wouldn't even be considered a fight so much as a murder," he snorts. "I thought you said you know how psionics work?"

"It's not just moving. It's sentient. It's a living thing. We've hung out. It's pretty chill."