ironlvngs·:
at her response, he holds his hand up to his heart, acting out as though he was pulling a dagger out of his chest, with a grin painted on his lips. he could tell that quinn never trusted him — she was a smart girl, and it didn’t surprise him that she chose not to trust him. but the suspicion grew when greer disappeared, and it got him beginning to wonder if she thought he had anything to do with that.
he reaches out his pack of cigarettes, gesturing for her to take one. “ be my guest. i’m curious to see what trick that is — all of mine are limited to dorm room tricks, i’m afraid. ”
"i doubt that." she added while walking over, taking a cigarette from the pack offered. quinn gestured for link to follow her and began leading them away from the main set of lockers and around the corner to a fully tiled shower area. there were some cubicles adjacent to the wall, for those who craved privacy, and for those who didn't; a typical offering of an open rectangle of densely packed riser rails. she twisted their dials one by one, being careful not to get splashed, and turned back to link with a cheeky smile before sitting in the middle of the short curb that acted as a dam for the run-off. "blow your smoke towards the running water. it dissipates it before it can reach the alarm out there and stops the smell from clinging."
a freshman approaches her with a green glow stick. quinn politely declines, waving her hand to shoo them away; bravado she would later come to regret. she enters with the confidence she was born into. a steadfast belief she's above it all— you know the type: everyone else but me. exclusivity from human frailty. closer to god than man. it was the morrison way and quinn was not immune.
at first, she's presented with options: a staircase with a ghoulish figure looming and a claustrophobic hallway of chains. she would rather take on an opponent she can see so she chooses the stairs. as expected, the robed figure lunges at her as she reaches the top. she pushes back, laughing. this wasn't scary. this was corny. this was camp. it was a kkg event after all. she should have known to lower her expectations.
quinn has little interest in the party laying ahead; the same as every year before. in fact, she's only making an appearance because that was what was expected of the greek letters. for all the rivalry between them, they made sure to show up to each other's occasions as a point of cooperation. she was tri delt's vice president of recruitment, so personal choice was outside the equation. she did her best not to be the rain on everyone's parade... by this point in the halloween season, in all honesty, her social battery was draining fast.
she moves forward through the haunted house, coiled hair bouncing on her proud shoulders. the sophomore finds herself in an empty room. her first impression? apathetic. the room is wallpapered white with some pictures plastered on top. she gets closer. curiosity, as usual, reaping bitter fruit.
she recognises a word emblazoned over and over again in bold block letters.
the brunette steps back, first in shock, then again in disgust. a weight drops in her abdomen. with a nauseous gulp, she turns and walks out as fast as her tiny frame is able. blinded by revulsion, quinn opens the next door she sees, hoping for an exit. she isn't paying attention. the memory of greer is suffocating her senses just enough for idle complacency to mutate into foolishness. this next room is pitch black and out from the shadows comes a paunchy man dressed as a clown — face paint and all. he makes a grab for her. quinn screams.
by the time she runs all the way back to the entrance she's pale and clammy. she falters over the front step, vision blurred, and vomits. exorcist-style.
ironlvngs·:
they really began to rack their mind through every trick that he learned throughout the years trying to figure out where she was going to go with this as she led them towards the showers. and then when she turned the tap on, explaining to him exactly how it would work. as she explained, he found himself grinning at her. “ and if you ever wonder why i’ve been so deeply attracted to you, morrison, do remember this moment. ” he says as he puts the cigarette up to his lips, offering to light hers first before going for his. “ so, why are you hiding in here ? ”
—she held the cigarette between her forefinger and middle and leaned forward to the flame, wrapping her lips around the filter and inhaling. the paper and tobacco crackled and the ember took. quinn's eyes flicked up to them, the green in her hazel eyes brighter in her purple ensemble. "you're attracted to anything you can't have, link..." the blonde answered after exhaling a stream of smoke. at least, that was her running theory, if it were true to begin with. "who's hiding?"
parisadavani·:
.
“I mixed it myself,” Parisa confirmed, almost as though she could read Quinn’s mind. She didn’t trust people she didn’t know to make her drinks at an event like this. “It’s… good but maybe a bit too sweet for my tastes, I should’ve probably gone with seltzer instead of Sprite,” she reviewed, savoring the flavor of lemons and pomegranate nonetheless. “Not like pina coladas are an option here,” she muttered, wondering when non-drinkers were going to have their time to thrive at college parties.
Snickering as Quinn talked about her cousin’s power of persuasion, Parisa shook her head. “I’m not ridiculously opposed to going in, but also not intending on it. I spent a little too long doing my hair and makeup to let it get messy, at least this early.” Curly tendrils framed Parisa’s face, with her dark tresses styled in its usual updo. “Plus, I much prefer the ocean to pools. Saltwater is sticky, but still more refreshing than chlorine. Not like we have great beaches up here anyway, but still I’m more of a resort pool girl than a… college competitive pool girl.” Even Parisa’s family’s pool in California was saltwater - not that she swam in it much.
"i don't see the point in any of it," she admitted. quinn had never been one for the water. "but if you do end up in there, please scrub hard after and don't come crying to me if you catch norovirus from the human soup." she finished her drink. parisa was right, it was too sweet. "i have a question for you while i have you here. it's months away, of course, but when the holidays come around i'm sure i'm going to be invited to something formal. i wanted to ask if you'd consider designing a dress for me. paid, of course."
——— ⁂ ❝ I know I shouldn't say this but did Greer really have to pick this year of all of them? It's just like her to disappear right when our professors are deciding what advanced classes we get to take. Freshman would've been so much more convenient... ❞ Quinn vented, clasping her glass of non-alcoholic rosé. She wouldn't say something so alarmingly coldhearted to anyone but Sloane— unless pushed. The pair had spent countless hours over the years privately shit talking their shared relative. It wasn't like The Golden Girl didn't deserve it. She had a part in making each of their lifes hell at times. Just as Quinn was about to talk, a waiter came over with menus. They said their thanks and she continued.
❝ Here I am going on about myself again. You don't care. How's film club going? ❞
——— ⁂ ❝ CYP2D6 inhibitors. ❞ Quinn added, getting a nod from their Biochem professor. She zoned out from the open discussion then, her eyes wandering past the faces of her classmates until they landed on who had come to mind. She began running through a checklist and felt a familiar tug of concern. Not as many as a few days ago but still more than last week.
The dismissal of the class almost passed her by, forcing Quinn to pack her materials up in a rush to join the rest. With quick footwork she made up the distance. When at the front of the pack and alongside Courtney– otherwise affectionately known as Coco –she bumped shoulders with him. ❝ Well that’s 90 minutes of my life I’ll never get back. What a snoozefest. ❞