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.
artwork by @holly-warbs
[ID: Digital art that has been broken up into four panels. It is of a person wearing a long blue coat and blue pants with a green backpack, with long black hair and a pale face. They are reaching out to a white, translucent figure next to them. The background gives a vague impression of a field, and blue and purple night sky. White text has been added that reads, “Is it haunting? If I’m the one leaving open a crack in the window.” END ID]
aceofportsmouth·:
Booker recognized the loathing in her eyes. The prickly ones are always the most powerful. While not the queen herself, a Morrison still holds a certain amount of sway. He smiled, choosing to ignore her bad manners. Booker raised his hands in defence. “It was merely a suggestion. I thought a dip might make things more fun.” Or remove that frown went unsaid. Quinn being off by herself was an odd sight at a party as big as this one. Booker never missed an opportunity to schmooze and something told him this would be more difficult than normal. “Not the social type, I see. More of small gathering type?” He questioned.
one eyebrow quirked up. "more of a party-when-appropriate type. my cousin's missing. for all we know, in danger." quinn pulled her sandalled foot out of the way as a small wave rippled through the pool towards them. "it leaves a bad taste in the mouth — no?" she stared at his eyes as if daring him to disagree.
*crushes my emotions with my bare hands* as I was saying,
——— ⁂ Quinn had spent the day now gone at her apartment in town. She needed to decompress. The amount of studying she was forcing herself to do wasn't healthy. She knew that, she did, and yet she carried on. Part of it was the same anxiety she had carried her whole life: that at some point, she would get complacent and fail horribly for everyone to see. She had come so close a few times. Mostly it was a distraction. If Quinn worked herself to the bone, there wouldn't be time to think about her missing cousin, the heightened public interest in her family, her tangled feelings. It had taken accidentally crashing in the library last night for her to finally take a day off. Was it a waste of a day? Absolutely. But that was what she needed. Challenging herself to a chocolate macaron recipe by Pierre Hermé, the sun had long set by the time she had 24 little iced meringues she was content enough with.
Walking back to campus, sealed tupperware hugged tightly in her arms, Quinn was wrapped in a thick woollen coat that grazed her ankles. She imagined she might cut an intimidating figure in the shadows if she wasn't the height of nothing. The sophomore hadn't noticed it was Ollie walking ahead of her until he turned around. She grinned. ❝ Would you like to bleed out fast and get it over with or nice and slow so you can ponder over all your terrible life choices ? ❞
Near the dorms, Late Wednesday Night. ( open ! )
It was colder outside than Ollie had thought as he walked from the dorms to the nearby 7-11 to get a Big Gulp late at night, and back again. He’d spent more than enough time in his room, really only leaving for one of two reasons. Going to class, or visiting Monty(/replenishing his supply). But he couldn’t last all week in a dark room sitting in front of a computer screen working out this phone tracking issue, and sorting out any pre mid-term issues he was having before that time of the year came up out of no where, like it seemed to every year. It was one of the busiest times of the year for his business, but also one of the most lucrative, so he wouldn’t complain. It was nice to get some fresh air, despite the nearly freezing temperatures as he walked along the campus sidewalk back towards Waverly, chewing on the bright red straw from the large plastic cup in his hand, slowing when he started to notice foot steps behind him. “Please tell me you’re following me because you’re planning on stabbing me, that will solve so many of my problems,” he said, turning to see who it was behind him. “Please?”
bvwie·:
WHERE right outside of the linden dorms
“ shh, please, be quiet — ” he desperately whispers into his backpack, which was now being carried at the very front of him, with the bag facing wherever he was walking. but it was as if bowie was just talking to a helpless baby animal, the kitten hidden in his backpack only meowed louder back in response. maybe this wasn’t his brightest idea. he stops in his tracks, when he realizes that he was about to walk into someone else. “ shit, sorry — ” and just as he began to apologize, the kitten meowed from the half open bag once again. he looked straight at the person in front of him. “ — don’t mind that, that’s just… my alarm. going off. i like to wake up to meows. ” he says confidently, as though that wasn’t the stupidest strain of words to leave his lips. “ on a very separate, hypothetical note… is it a Big Ogden Crime if i try to sneak a pet into the dorms ? i’m asking for my friend. ” at this point, he’d given up, a grin already making its way onto his lips.
quinn swivelled, ready to apologise in return, when she registered that it was bowie. she was just about to ask how his day was going when a noise escaped his bag. was that... a meow? she peered at the backpack. "alarm, huh?" quinn humoured him. "totally hypothetically — kinda. definitely a health violation. possibly a suspension. that wouldn't be something you were thinking of doing, would it?"