Not unless I try and pull free. I can feel the resistance from it, but I can't feel you trying to dent them.
( okay, it's a bit of an exaggeration, but quire gets the point he's getting at. he can see the white on quentin's knuckles as he tightens his grip, but can't necessarily really feel it. but quire's both gotten his point and opted to play science with him in the meantime, so he guesses this is an alright alternative to the awkward as hell conversation they were having before. )
So I can feel it kinda if I rest the prosthetic against a table. But it's not like I don't have skin or nerves everywhere else too. I can feel crap.
[Quentin glances up with a distinctly unamused eyebrow raise at that whole "dent" comment, and he barely resists the urge to snark back that if he was trying to dent Keller's stupid prosthetics, he'd succeed. But a) that's lame and b) he's... not sure that's even true. Which. Also lame. Ugh. He loosens his grip, pauses, and pulls his hand away.]
Well. I could tell you how many nerve endings there are in fingertips alone—it's about 3,000 per finger, by the way, which yes, is significantly more than most other body parts, in case you're wondering—but I'm guessing that would be "nerd shit" or something.
[He does air quotes and an eyeroll, just for good measure.]
I can feel your TK, you know. When you move those things. It's like a... buzzing, I guess. Static-y.
[Why is he saying this? Who the hell even knows. Smalltalk? Trivia?? Fuck if he knows. It's better than awkward silence or whatever bullshit they've been talking in circles around this whole damn time.]
[... Okay, well. Guess he walked into that one. Fine. Fair enough. He doesn't have to be happy about it, though. Quentin rolls his eyes. Yes, again. Keller just has that effect on him, okay? He added some extra sarcasm this time, though, so it's in fact completely different. Shut up.]
I feel it with my TK, genius. Same way you would if I telekinetically jabbed a chunk of metal at you.
[Yes, "jabbed". You know, like all the times Julian's poked him in the chest or shoved him or grabbed his shirt. Or definitely not held his hand. Whatever, Quentin's decided not to be mad at Julian being dumb this time, and he waves it off dismissively.]
I mean. I can feel synapses firing if I want to. But yours are... [He makes a wiggly "so-so" motion with his fingers.] not really normal. For obvious reasons.
I haven't thrown anything at you in - ( he doesn't remember. when was the last time he jabbed quentin quire with something? ) months, asshole.
( prosthetics don't count, probably. the eyerolling is really making the urge to shove him over difficult to resist but he's managing this far. although they are rather close to the edge of the building, and it isn't as if quire couldn't catch himself if julian did drop him off of it. . . )
[Prosthetics definitely count?? Why else would he specifically mention chunks of metal???? Whatever. Quentin eyes Julian warily. He can see those violent urges in your eyes, jackass. He's watching you.]
My god, you're touchy. I just meant your motor cortex is all rewired to, you know, connect to your TK. You don't think about making natural hand movements with those, right? You just... do. Your brain's adapted. It's... mildly impressive, actually. Doing that without a shred of telepathy, I mean.
( at least that actually gets him to pause and - think it over a minute. julian turns his hand over, looking at it as his fingers curl in then extend out straight once more. you know. as if he's just now noticing they actually do that despite the fact they've been doing that just fine for a while now. )
[Okay, that one just slipped out. Look, Quentin has to say something bitchy every so often or he explodes. At least he follows it up with something a little more constructive.]
Look, the... [It is almost physically painful to say the word.] impressive part is that you didn't notice. I mean, it's not a secondary mutation or anything. Guess it could be some kind of... I dunno. Subconscious, limited telepathic ability.
his hand raises, shoving against quentin's shoulder but it's not - rough. julian could push harder, this is just him being himself. )
I had to figure it out first, you know. Took me a while to adjust to having prosthetics, and the first ones weren't nearly as mobile as these are. It took a crapton of work to get it to be as easy as it is.
( a shitton of physical therapy to adjust to his arms first, a lot of work to adjust to using his hands as he does now. but he's always been more skilled with precise telekinesis than just raw power; adjusting wasn't impossible, it was just difficult. )
[Quentin pouts scowls at the shove, but he's not overly dramatic about it at least.]
Yeah, I was joking about the "dumb luck" thing. Obviously.
[Was he??? Don't worry about it. Quentin huffs and folds his arms.]
And anyway, if it was that difficult, you'd think you'd have a little more appreciation for me offering you my precious nerve endings. Wouldn't exactly be a walk in the park for me to link up your weird motor shit with mine, you know. At least well enough to actually fool your brain into accepting the sensory input.
( julian gives an ugly snort, but he's - there's a small upward tilt to the corners of his lips, the hint of a smile. and when he speaks, there's no real malice to his tone even if he is being snarky. )
Yeah, uh huh. Thanks a lot for offering to let me borrow your hands so I can feel a goddamn table when I do, y'know, have other nerve endings that still work.
( it's fine. it's whatever. quentin did offer, julian isn't upset with him anymore. for now. who knows how long that'll last, but for now? they're good. )
Yeah, and most of thoseย are in your face, dumbass. You planning on licking everything you feel like touching from now on?
[Quentin is still pouting, and he gives the standard eye-roll, but it's mostly just an affectation. They're in one of their little truces that happen between the times they try to kick the shit out of each other, and he's not out to ruin it. At least not on purpose. Accidentally? Not ruling it out. That's kind of their whole thing, right? Quentin is annoying, both intentionally and unintentionally. And Keller is a stubborn moron who doesn't accept want to accept any help at all ever because of blah blah blah nobody loves me yadda yadda toxic masculinity whatever.
... Wait.
Quentin is not completely sure if he just had an epiphany or some sort of stroke that will lead directly to him getting shoved off of this roof, but fuck it, he's going for it. He turns suddenly to point at Julian.]
Hang on, no. No. You're—doing the thing! That you said. Not taking help 'cause you can't let go.
( the licking comment is fucking stupid. he does, you know, have some of his arms left. legs. enough that it's not like he's forgotten what it's like to feel the world around him even if he's missing some pretty key elements without his hands. julian is functional, thanks, even if he's not exactly happy about what he's missing.
and while he considers opening his mouth to bitch about quire and his licking comment, he's instead derailed by his bullshitting about - crap julian just admitted to but he hadn't meant it like that. )
This isn't the same as that, idiot.
( name calling just for the sake of name calling because while he could push quentin off the roof and is very seriously considering it - it's probably not a great idea. probably. )
I don't want to borrow your hands for stupid shit.
[The narrowing of Quentin's eyes makes it clear he's not buying it. Not even a little. And he's just about to retort to that effect, except... Hm. Okay, maybe Keller has a point with the "stupid shit" thing. What, Quentin expects him to be grateful for the ability to feel some boring, impersonal surface temporarily simply because he doesn't have fingers? Ridiculous. Sure, he was trying to be respectful of Julian's weird "no homo" crap. You know, give him space or whatever. See also: the whole "this isn't hand-holding, you're just holding the thing I use as my hand" thing.
... Alright. Keller doesn't want stupid shit, huh? Fine. All Quentin actually needs for this dumb little exercise is to know the sensory information of whatever Julian's metal mitts are touching well enough to copy-paste it into his brain, right?]
Okay, fine.
[He scowls and holds his hand out like a handshake.]
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( okay, it's a bit of an exaggeration, but quire gets the point he's getting at. he can see the white on quentin's knuckles as he tightens his grip, but can't necessarily really feel it. but quire's both gotten his point and opted to play science with him in the meantime, so he guesses this is an alright alternative to the awkward as hell conversation they were having before. )
So I can feel it kinda if I rest the prosthetic against a table. But it's not like I don't have skin or nerves everywhere else too. I can feel crap.
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Well. I could tell you how many nerve endings there are in fingertips alone—it's about 3,000 per finger, by the way, which yes, is significantly more than most other body parts, in case you're wondering—but I'm guessing that would be "nerd shit" or something.
[He does air quotes and an eyeroll, just for good measure.]
I can feel your TK, you know. When you move those things. It's like a... buzzing, I guess. Static-y.
[Why is he saying this? Who the hell even knows. Smalltalk? Trivia?? Fuck if he knows. It's better than awkward silence or whatever bullshit they've been talking in circles around this whole damn time.]
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( not that he's an expert or anything, but he's not stupid either. )
You feel the synapses firing going or whatever. You know. nerd shit.
( if quentin's going to call himself out on being a nerd, julian may as well take advantage. )
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I feel it with my TK, genius. Same way you would if I telekinetically jabbed a chunk of metal at you.
[Yes, "jabbed". You know, like all the times Julian's poked him in the chest or shoved him or grabbed his shirt. Or definitely not held his hand. Whatever, Quentin's decided not to be mad at Julian being dumb this time, and he waves it off dismissively.]
I mean. I can feel synapses firing if I want to. But yours are... [He makes a wiggly "so-so" motion with his fingers.] not really normal. For obvious reasons.
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( prosthetics don't count, probably. the eyerolling is really making the urge to shove him over difficult to resist but he's managing this far. although they are rather close to the edge of the building, and it isn't as if quire couldn't catch himself if julian did drop him off of it. . . )
Not normal in what way?
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My god, you're touchy. I just meant your motor cortex is all rewired to, you know, connect to your TK. You don't think about making natural hand movements with those, right? You just... do. Your brain's adapted. It's... mildly impressive, actually. Doing that without a shred of telepathy, I mean.
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( at least that actually gets him to pause and - think it over a minute. julian turns his hand over, looking at it as his fingers curl in then extend out straight once more. you know. as if he's just now noticing they actually do that despite the fact they've been doing that just fine for a while now. )
Huh. Guess I didn't notice.
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[Okay, that one just slipped out. Look, Quentin has to say something bitchy every so often or he explodes. At least he follows it up with something a little more constructive.]
Look, the... [It is almost physically painful to say the word.] impressive part is that you didn't notice. I mean, it's not a secondary mutation or anything. Guess it could be some kind of... I dunno. Subconscious, limited telepathic ability.
[Quentin shrugs.]
Doubt it, though. I think it's just dumb luck.
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his hand raises, shoving against quentin's shoulder but it's not - rough. julian could push harder, this is just him being himself. )
I had to figure it out first, you know. Took me a while to adjust to having prosthetics, and the first ones weren't nearly as mobile as these are. It took a crapton of work to get it to be as easy as it is.
( a shitton of physical therapy to adjust to his arms first, a lot of work to adjust to using his hands as he does now. but he's always been more skilled with precise telekinesis than just raw power; adjusting wasn't impossible, it was just difficult. )
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poutsscowls at the shove, but he's not overly dramatic about it at least.]Yeah, I was joking about the "dumb luck" thing. Obviously.
[Was he??? Don't worry about it. Quentin huffs and folds his arms.]
And anyway, if it was that difficult, you'd think you'd have a little more appreciation for me offering you my precious nerve endings. Wouldn't exactly be a walk in the park for me to link up your weird motor shit with mine, you know. At least well enough to actually fool your brain into accepting the sensory input.
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Yeah, uh huh. Thanks a lot for offering to let me borrow your hands so I can feel a goddamn table when I do, y'know, have other nerve endings that still work.
( it's fine. it's whatever. quentin did offer, julian isn't upset with him anymore. for now. who knows how long that'll last, but for now? they're good. )
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[Quentin is still pouting, and he gives the standard eye-roll, but it's mostly just an affectation. They're in one of their little truces that happen between the times they try to kick the shit out of each other, and he's not out to ruin it. At least not on purpose. Accidentally? Not ruling it out. That's kind of their whole thing, right? Quentin is annoying, both intentionally and unintentionally. And Keller is a stubborn moron who doesn't accept want to accept any help at all ever because of blah blah blah nobody loves me yadda yadda toxic masculinity whatever.
... Wait.
Quentin is not completely sure if he just had an epiphany or some sort of stroke that will lead directly to him getting shoved off of this roof, but fuck it, he's going for it. He turns suddenly to point at Julian.]
Hang on, no. No. You're—doing the thing! That you said. Not taking help 'cause you can't let go.
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and while he considers opening his mouth to bitch about quire and his licking comment, he's instead derailed by his bullshitting about - crap julian just admitted to but he hadn't meant it like that. )
This isn't the same as that, idiot.
( name calling just for the sake of name calling because while he could push quentin off the roof and is very seriously considering it - it's probably not a great idea. probably. )
I don't want to borrow your hands for stupid shit.
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... Alright. Keller doesn't want stupid shit, huh? Fine. All Quentin actually needs for this dumb little exercise is to know the sensory information of whatever Julian's metal mitts are touching well enough to copy-paste it into his brain, right?]
Okay, fine.
[He scowls and holds his hand out like a handshake.]
Gimme your hand, dumbass.