People didn't understand the word uncomfortable until they'd had to sit through dinner with the full James family. Quentin was kind of thrilled when he realized he was no longer invited to them - oh, he could still get whatever food he wanted, the staff of the house liked him well enough, but his mother didn't want him to be an "embarrassment" to whoever she was having over that day. Fine by him, he wasn't interested in playing nice to some rich housewife or whoever they were anyway. It still stung that, even doing as well as he was out here, he knew it didn't matter to his parents. If he wasn't trying to fall in line and help out with the marina and marrying some blond chick without two brain cells to rub together, then he was a failure. Simple as that.
Quentin was the type who tended to work through one sketchbook at a time, mostly because it wasn't like his ideas were all that organized. Sometimes he had them on him just to pass the time, wherever he was, and sometimes he was trying out ideas that would later become full on pieces. There was one book back in his apartment that was full of tattoo sketches, for example, mostly for the fae Lia had wanted on her hip. "Hybrid's the best, not going to lie," he said. "Can totally make it your own that way." He leaned in a little to look at what she was showing him, still careful to stay outside of her personal space, as not to turn into that creepy douchebag. Immediately, Quentin liked the style, the quirkiness to it, and it seemed like said comic might have been based on real life. If he had to guess, anyway. "Love it. You'll have to give me the web address so I can check out the final product. And me, well, I paint. Going through a huge landscape phase right now, couldn't tell you why, but if I'm drawing just for me, it tends to lean towards a more... I don't know. Dark fantasy, lots of dragons, that sort of thing. Anything that will let me play with colors and texture."