*crushes my emotions with my bare hands* as I was saying,
——— ⁂ This year at Ogden, Quinn had bought herself a townhouse in the local area as a birthday present. Living in dorms freshman year without somewhere to escape to had driven her half mad. A librarian had given her the idea; one of the many mornings she showed up groggy and incoherent from lack of sleep. You're rich rich. Why not buy somewhere? It hit her like a train. Veering on the sensible side, she still kept paying her dorm [ Waverly #206 ] for when she needed to be on campus. Tonight was one of those nights, with a biochem midterm stupid early in the morning. She didn't know what had triggered such a petty tactic... other than the fact she merely existed. At exactly 10pm her dorm mate had decided it was the perfect time for flute practice. He just continued, getting louder and louder. Eventually, after leaving the dorm for a walk and coming back, she had enough and jumped up from her bed — grabbing the flute from his two hands and smacking it against the wall. The head joint fell to the floor with a clang. It was probably dented. He just laughed and said Bianca was right. The phrase ringing through her head carried her slippered feet all the way to Linden. Quinn was FURIOUS. The sophomore didn't know if this was a Greek rivalry thing or a Pre-Med thing but whatever it was, tonight was not the night. She wrapped her knuckles furiously against Bianca's door. After she answered, Quinn dropped the rest of the flute at her feet.
❝ I need you to stop giving your minions ideas ! ❞
open / closed starter location: late night at linden housing / bianca’s dorm
the loud knocking on her door nearly made her jump out of her skin. she scrunched her eyebrows together as she hurried to finish moisturizing her face before leaving the bathroom. bianca didn’t want whoever to get the chance to pound on her door again. besides, it was late and she wasn’t expecting anyone, or was she? if she did, she forgot about their plans. bianca opened the door and plastered a smile on her face before speaking, confusion still written on her face. ❝it’s nearly midnight and you knocking on the door like you’re the police,❞ she shook her head. the pace her heart was beating would’ve given an old man a heart attack. ❝you needed something?❞
[ BIOGRAPHY ※ ]
graphic inspired by
troublemaker and #sominions by @gunshzt
memories by @gwldcnz
NAME quinn morrison NICKNAMES quinneth, Q TROPE the teacher’s pet ADDITIONAL TROPES here AGE twenty two BIRTHDAY 14th of july, 2000 STAR SIGN cancer STAR CHART here PRONOUNS she / her SEXUALITY presumed straight DEGREE pre-med YEAR sophomore EXTRACURRICULARS women’s volleyball captain, sophomore class board, first chair violin in the orchestra, vp of recruitment at tri delt RELATIONS AT OGDEN greer morrison, mitchell morrison (cousins) SIBLINGS one far older paternal half brother, one younger sister HOMETOWN noho, manhattan, ny AESTHETIC a mix of vibrant and pastel academia SKILLS multitasking between commitments, initiating conversation with confidence, steady physical co-ordination POSITIVE TRAITS driven, clever and romantic NEGATIVE TRAITS stressed, critical and envious INSPIRATION spencer hastings (pretty little liars) annie edison (community) amy santiago (brooklyn 99) lisa simpson (the simpsons) jal fazer (skins) hermione granger (harry potter series) PINTEREST here
almost always has her nose in a book when alone
the only thing more important than the grind is being the best at it
travelled before enrolling in college
top grades, high achiever, chases knowledge
peak girly
obsessive note taker and stationary collector
fuelled by nootropic mushroom coffee and vegan protein snacks
needs approval like plants need water
second-in-command syndrome
secretly leaves pencil annotations and cute notes in library books
the notion app rules her life
being a morrison, she has money to burn
cooks and bakes to unwind
speed knitter
falls asleep to nature documentaries
annie, 26, bst/gmt. she/they. no triggers.
isabellafm:
Bella stopped in her tracks, sighing, rolling her eyes, the works because, oh my god — “Proud of you for your good deed, Sandra Dee, but that’s totally not mine.” She poked her head towards the pencil case in Quinn’s hand; it was a tacky orange color, completely outside of her color scheme, and god forbid she ever used mechanical pencils. Good lord. “Though, I’m not against opening it up and digging through. Might be some goodies inside, y’know?”
——— ⁂ Quinn blinked at being called Sandra Dee. She'd heard it before. Her jaw clenched, wanting to react but knowing it wasn't worth it with Bella. ❝ Oh, ❞ she held back. The pencil case had been sitting by Bella in the library but must've been left before she arrived. Quinn pulled her arm in and held the item close to her chest, pulling a frown at the fellow legacy. ❝ I think not. ❞