Hello and welcome to another episode of ‘he’s lived under a rock all of his life so of course he’ll not know about some things yet’. This is what’s going on through my mind as I have to sit next to him while he stares at the cars as they zoom around the track, just working to get to the first place so that they might win. I admit, I don’t much care for car racing though I suppose it might have its charms, I mostly appreciate it when folks crash. Yes, you may call me cruel but it’s a good way to go ‘ha-ha, teach you to do something stupid’. Not that they learn, they just keep at it.
“So what’s the point of this?” Sweet adorable, rock-living Yael. You’re like Patrick Star in SpongeBob Squarepants. Asking pointless questions.
“There isn’t much of one, they just race one another, going several times around the track, depending and whoever finishes first wins. It’s like a lot of the sports other there, really. “
“You tend to get some physical exercise out of most sports, this looks more like they’re in it for the stress.”
I shrug and leave it be for the time being, he’s the one holding the remote and I’m not going to take it from him. I’d first visited with the idea of asking Quentin if he would finally mind having a look at the couch that the parrot had ripped into. It had slipped my mind to this day. Upon stepping inside however, Yael told me that Quentin was busy with a big project in his weaving room so I let him be. Yael was watching races on the television and he looked puzzled so I told myself I’d stay with him for a little while and answer any questions he might have.
“Anyone ever die doing that kind of thing?” His questions really are random though I suppose there’s a reason for everything. I shrug to answer this one however. I’m pretty sure there have been some death, some more gruesome than others but giving him those details isn’t really part of the plan. I’m pretty sure there have been accidents and deaths related to most sports we play to this day.
Eventually, Quentin does come out of his work room, he looks tired and I tell myself to forget the couch for now though I know I can mention it to him and he might come up on his own in a few more days. He blinks, more than likely at the sight of me on the couch and I grin at him somewhat, offering a shrug. “I came to see you but Yael said you were busy so I can wait for another day. He was watching the races and looking puzzled as can be so I told him what little I know. Else than they just go around the tracks to try to finish first, I don’t know anything else and I don’t really see the point either.”
He rolls his eyes, chuckling softly though he tugs a few fingers through his hair. “I’m done.”
Done with what, I have no idea but Yael seems to because his eyes go wide and bright and I assume he’s aware. He bounces off the couch and nearly tackles Quentin who chuckles softly. He looks back to me then and nods towards the hallway. “You can come and see too though we have to keep the cats out of the weaving room.”
That’s not something I have an issue with. I can only imagine that cats in a room with a lot of textile and threads might be an issue, really. I move to my feet and stretch, following him and Yael as they walk towards the weaving room. Quentin is very private about his weaving and I haven’t really seen the inside of that room yet, at least not since the machine was set up.
He tells Yael not to look and helps him step inside, I follow the young demon in and then Quentin who closes the door behind himself to keep all cats out.
I’m not sure what I’m looking at. It looks like a huge curtain or blanket of sort but it is absolutely sheer, shimmering from silver to gold to deep green. There are intricate designs on one of those blankets or curtains or what have you. It is breathtaking. I knew he was good with the weaving, it’s in his blood but I never thought he’d actually manage this kind of thing without some prior knowledge as to how it all works.
Yael is completely silent, his eyes wide but one look at his face makes it very clear, he’s more than a little happy with whatever this is.
“I do have to thank you, Eoghan. I made this based on the curtains you and Alexis have around the bed in your bedroom. So I made these curtains and we’ll drape them over the four posters of the bed.”
“This is absolutely breathtaking work, Quentin, you see me absolutely amazed at how perfect it is. I can’t even bring myself to dare to touch it, I think I’d be afraid of tearing it, it looks so sheer.”
He smiles, obviously pleased by the compliment. I’ve really never seen anything before and I remind myself to not underestimate him, I really shouldn’t. “Ah, by the way, not today of course, I’m sure you’ve worked more than hard on this but we had to deal with a parrot during that downpour and it has left lasting marks in our couch, Lex wanted to get a brand new one but I thought I’d ask you to see if you might not feel like having a look at it to see if there was something at all you could do.”
“I’ll have a look at it in a couple of days, see how bad it might be and what I’d need with me to fix it up as it is. Thought about a couch cover?”
I scrunch up my nose at the idea of a couch cover and he laughs. “I’ll see you in a couple of days, then. Thank you Quentin. Once again, this is absolutely, absolutely gorgeous.”
He smiles, nodding as if to both my appreciation of his work and his offer to see about the couch and I carefully let myself out of his working room, making sure to close the door behind me when I step out.
The guy will never cease to amaze me, I’m sure. It’s nothing I’ve ever really seen before. Then again, until I met him, I’d been sure that all weaver demons had been absolutely extinct. I hadn’t heard about them in a couple of centuries at the very least. I don’t know what will happen if he ever learns of the depth of his gift. If he turns out to be power-hungry in the way the rest of his kind have been—the reason for their deaths—I’m sure not sure I’ll do. I won’t be able to let him try to rule this whole world after all.
It’s not something I want to think about much. It makes me ill to think I might, one of these days, have to hurt him or put an end to his life because he might become uncontrollable. Maybe, just maybe if I’m lucky, he won’t be that way. That or he won’t find out just how far he can ‘weave’ things. That might just be the best option, not that I have much control over it but still.
I suppose I can’t live in the future, I have to live in the present and that really is just what I’m doing. He’s yet to ask about what his gift really means and I’m in no hurry to tell him about it all.
I’ll have to see about the work he does now though, depending on how much work it requires, how long it takes him. There are a few things I’d like made.