Quill perched on a stool in the corner of a dimly lit bar, his golden eyes scanning the room with an observant expression. Despite the chaotic atmosphere of the packed establishment, Quill was unruffled, his slender frame radiating an air of quiet intelligence. Occasionally, his beak twitched as he listened to fragments of conversations around him. He'd guickly rose in power after waking up in this new reality thanks to his reality bending powers that came back as soon as his mortal form died. Today, he is reading a book that is in an unknown language and listening to the radio since this bar is one of the least chaotic ones.

As another patron stumbled past his stool, Quill's wings, which he had been keeping tucked close to his body, involuntarily flared momentarily, revealing the intricate patterns of grey feathers.