Quentin nods absently. Drawing from something called the Fade--whatever it is--it seems like simple quantum mechanics. The physics are the same, at least. It's the last part that gives him pause.

Demon.

Possession, that's--well. Technically something Quentin has experience with, but his brow furrows as the other continues. It sounds more like a Adam and Eve situation, a classic faustian deal. The literary nerd in him is going nuts.

"Right. Until I can find a way to get back, say no to drugs." Speaking of:

"This is a shot in the dark, but, uh--have you seen any...keys...around?" He's very aware he sounds stupid. Why he cares with someone he just met, he's not sure.