['awkward social suicide' seems to kind of be quentin's shtick. klaus has grown used to it by now, might even be a little weirded out if it weren't happening, but regardless of that, he appreciates the other male's consolation.]

It's not? Do a lot of people self-medicate where you come from?

[aaand then quentin has to go and say a thing like that.] Incredible, [he all but spits, face dropping into his knees, which muffles his words, but he keeps right on going anyhow.]

Yeah, sure, it's totally great to have these blood-covered sonuvabitches constantly screaming for your help when you can't really do anything. [his head turns back to quentin, dark-ringed eyes leveling him through the mess of hair pressed over his forehead.] Wait, like, magical ingredients? You have to use magic to conjure the dead?