[If looks could kill, Quentin would have Otto six feet under right now. He knows the guy was a physicist, those nerds are all about parameters and variables and whether or not a black hole will eat your face.

Quentin is conveniently forgetting that he is also a nerd here.]

Wonderful. Grand. Do I need to worry about this kinda thing blowing up in my face, any sort of... backlash if I fuck up? Or the worst that'll happen is a strained wrist from this circling bullshit? Trying won't... [He gestures awkwardly, face scrunching in annoyance as more green 'magic' follows his fingers.] I'm not gonna hit 'empty' and launch myself at somebody, right?