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Moment of Awesome - Quentin Quire/Kid Omega: Roommates Quentin and Betsy Braddock share Indian takeout and powers applications. He recalled the first time they met, after their jaunt in the Astral Plane with Jean, Betsy had woken up with that glowing knife in her hand. He hadn't given it much thought since. But now that she was doing it on demand and could shape it how she wanted, he was intrigued. He forced himself to calm down before speaking. "So, okay. First, if that worked, it would've saved your ass from fucking Toad. Still gross. And second, how'd you do that? Show me again.” “Yes, that is the idea,” she rolled her eyes at him, then sent out a telepathic tendril that nudged his perception just a tad and brought the faintest overlay of the Astral Plane over the room. Then she started gathering energy again. “So, I just pull a bit from the ‘plane and concentrate it - “ she demonstrated, shaping another throwing star “ - and voilà. Catch!” It was so clever and simple that Quentin hated himself for not thinking of it on his own earlier. The Astral Plane was so easy for a telepath of his caliber to manipulate. Surely he could do it, and better than she could. But the surprise attack jerked him back to reality, and he cowered before the weapon blinked out, this time even closer than the first. "Stop fucking doing that! God damn. Here, let me just . . ." Still reeling from the near miss, he mimicked Betsy's psychic motions, grabbing hold of Astral Stuff and molding it. It slipped through his fingers like unkneaded focaccia dough, but with some focus, he gave it a basic shape, and held a glowing pink boomerang in his hands. "Well, fuck me.” Betsy watched Quentin’s attempt closely, idly pondering about the difference in colour of the manifested energy. Why should there be a visible difference when it was all psionic? Then her eyes widened and she started forming another shuriken. Fortunately she was considerate enough to not throw it at Quentin this time as this one stayed intact, keeping it’s course through the window pane before finally dissipating halfway over the lawn. She let out a surprised laugh. “It’s not physics because it’s not physical. Of course,” she said mostly to herself. Quentin's boomerang pulsated in sync with his heartbeat, the tempo speeding up as his imagination ran wild with the possibilities of this new art. He threw it across the room, and despite his rather pathetic throw that belied how he was never picked first for team sports in high school PE, it embedded itself in the wall. Physics didn't matter, just like Betsy said. It was all telekinesis. He snapped his fingers and it disappeared, leaving a shallow gash in the drywall. He laughed, a sound she had rarely heard in all the time they lived together. "Well, Braddock. You might be my least unfavorite person here right now.”