quixoticquinn-blog

[quixoticquinn-blog]

Quinn nodded, turning the woman’s answer in her mind. ❝Are you going to go to your own funeral? It hasn’t happened yet, it’s scheduled for the day after tomorrow. I can’t imagine many get the opportunity to see what others might say about them in such a setting,❞ the Director suggested, a little smirk playing on her lips. It had been surreal being at Finn’s funeral. The twins had been two of the same person, and so much of what was said about him was hard not to internalise about herself.

Pulling the car out of the garage Quinn headed to the bar she had been talking about. ❝Did you find your life captive and dull?❞ she asked as she drove. It was rare that Quinn got to deal directly with the clients about their motivations. Rossum had a very hands off policy on the whole thing. Looking in her side mirror she saw the two handlers that would be accompanying them tailing behind.

Death Becomes Them || Quinn + Juliet

Casey was glad she wasn’t stuck with someone boring, and rude. Quinn seemed fun, and she definitely needed fun in her life. She was taken by the next question. “I…um…” She thought for a moment. “A bit of both. I want to do so many things, but I guess my purpose at the end is just wanting to be able to be finally happy and at peace.”

Sure there was more that the girl wanted to do, but given the time, it was less likely somethings wouldn’t happen. “Doing a lot of daring and fun things will make me feel so alive, and excited.”

[quixoticquinn-blog]

Quinn’s eyes looked over the different placards and degrees and awards that littered the wall. Books were on shelves that she was used to...but that she knew her active hadn’t read. Not really. It was strange being on the client end of things...it wasn’t anything that she had thought she would ever be in the position to be. But, Rossum staff frequently took on their own actives as clients themselves, for a myriad of reasons. While the thought of some ageing, balding man taking on an active for something more romantic turned Quinn’s stomach, she knew she was far, far distanced from that situation.

She couldn’t run her House if her own mental health was being affected.

When Charlie...now Dr. Alyssa Kerr...walked into the room, Quinn blinked a couple of times. It really was a change to see an active she was familiar with taking on her role completely. It really was a personality wearing a meat-suit that was her active, and the thought unsettled Quinn slightly.

Giving the woman a polite smile, the blonde shook her head. ❝It’s no trouble really, I definitely can empathise with the day getting away from you and small things popping up to make you rush. I haven’t been waiting long,❞ she confirmed, standing from the waiting area, and following the brunette into her office.

The space was lovely, and had the hint of “designer” to it. It was amazing to think that not 24 hours ago this was nothing but an empty office space. She would have to commend Alexander for the work his team had done to create the environment...on the “client’s” behalf of course, as nobody within the House knew that Quinn herself was the client.

Seeking Consultation || Quinn + “Charlie”

Alyssa looked herself in the bathroom mirror, touching herself up before she headed off to her next meeting. The past week had been hectic, with meetings and appointments almost every day, making it difficult for her to even catch a moment to breathe. She liked being busy; it forced her to stay organized and focused, kept her on her toes. However, despite the constant rushing around, today was nowhere near as packed as the rest of the week had been. And frankly, Alyssa was thankful for it. There was only one name in her daily planner. One appointment, and then she would be done. The name, though, wasn’t just any name. It was Quinn DuPree, one of, if not the most important client that she had at all. 

Quinn DuPree insisted on confidentiality in a way that any other client never had. When Alyssa first received the message explaining the appointment, she had to say that she was surprised. Most people seeing a psychiatrist understood the nature of the appointments. There wasn’t a chance that she’d tell anyone what Ms. DuPree said during their time together. Not if the woman wasn’t in any danger. But being no stranger to paranoia and the fear that came with seeking professional help, Alyssa understood that some people were more nervous about setting that first appointment. 

She glanced down at her watch to make sure she still had time. The hands seemed to be ticking faster than normal. Time was not on her side. Alyssa left the bathroom and entered the waiting room of her office – only to find that Quinn was already sitting on the couch, presumably waiting on her. “Ms. DuPree? I apologize if you’ve been waiting long. If I’d known you were already here, I would’ve come a little earlier.” Alyssa extended her hand to shake the other woman’s. “I’m Alyssa Kerr. If you’re ready, you can follow me into my office.”

[quixoticquinn-blog]

Quinn grinned, giving him a one shouldered shrug. ❝Don’t you mean one check, right there?❞ she asked after the waiter had passed, pointing to the ominous black building that was Rossum Corporate. She knew anything they got would be easily comped.

Chuckling, Quinn drank a sip of her wine, letting the bouquet of it dance on her tongue before swallowing. ❝Maybe...but you catch more flies with shite than the other two combined,❞ the blonde remarked with a smirk, popping a cherry tomato into her mouth. Chewing, she thought about what he said. It had definitely been the number one question that turned around in her mind when Rossum approached her. Why her? She was young, newly trained, lacked experience. Yes, she scored well on her testing, but there were others that scored better. The fact that her peers had not been approached, and she had checked, was more telling than Rossum likely wanted to give away. It meant there was something, specific, they were after, and Quinn had the feeling, as Upper Management’s hold kept tightening, that they weren’t getting what they expected. It made her question and suspicious of their motives.

Giving a wave of her hand, her tone was dismissive. ❝We might as well get the boring stuff out of the way. You’re not really here to talk about financial projections.❞

Performance || Neal & Quinn

“Well, drinking is never as fun if you’re the only one,” Neal shrugged, pleased to see her pick up the wine menu. “By the way,” he addressed the waiter and pointed a finger at his own chest. “One check. Right here.”

Their server nodded, left the salad, and returned a few moments later with their wine glasses. Neal smirked at Quinn’s next remark. “True, although to most of the bigwigs in Upper Management, I’m just as likely to become one of their club as Peter Pan is.” He blinked and gave a guilty shrug as she called him out on his flattery. “Alright, I admit I’ve been attempting the ‘catch more flies with honey than with vinegar’ method. But, if you want spades, I’ll give you spades, Quinn. Upper Management has staked a lot in revitalizing the Manhattan House. They wanted a puppet master and instead they got you. They’ve been so busy having panic-attacks over the fact that you’re a young woman that they’ve failed to see the advantages of having a CIA-trained, out-of-the-box thinker running the show. The only thing that can change their minds is time.”

He took a couple sheets of paper out of his briefcase. “Do you want to talk the boring money numbers now or after our salad and wine?”

[quixoticquinn-blog]

A Night Out | Quinn + Logan

Evening | Manhattan

Quinn looked at her dog Jett and sighed. The dog had been staring at her for the past hour and she knew it was because besides work she had been home, and gone very little elsewhere. She remembered something Michelle had said to her the other day -- that because of the Bravo and Cymbeline stuff recently, the blonde had done very little to actually get out and have fun. Quinn was beginning to realise just how much the weight of actives and management was settling on her and she knew she had to do something to get out and just not think about work for a night.

Picking up her phone she scrolled though her short list of friends. Quinn had always been someone who kept a professional distance from people, preferring that space as a safety net. Since Finn had died she tried not to get too close to anyone -- the idea of their loss pained her. She knew that Michelle was busy, and discarded the idea of several others...until she landed on Logan’s name. Pursing her lips, the thought about it. They had known each other before Rossum, there were some fun outings in college...letting out a breath she nodded. A night out, some drinks and good conversation between friends was in order.

Dialling Logan’s number, she stood up, walking up the steps of her brownstone to her room to change.

[quixoticquinn-blog]

Seeking Consultation || Quinn + “Charlie”

Lower Manhattan Skyrise | Afternoon

Sitting in the small rented office, Quinn wrung her hands in a nervous habit. Biting her lip she looked around. It was a nicely sized space and no expense had been spared to continue on with the illusion. She would have to make sure Alexander and Kai got a bonus on that. She would mention that the client was very happy with the engagement details, of course. Nobody knew that it was the Director herself was a client of the Dollhouse; she had taken on a false name when designing the parameters.

Had she not known what went on behind the scenes at the House, Quinn would have felt this was an actual psychiatric office. Diplomas littered the walls, heavy books on the shelves, and even knick-nacks on the desk. She smiled wondering what the active would be imprinted with as far as memories of those things. Each of them holding some special meaning in some way.

The Director had stopped seeing her normal psychiatrist; there were too many things that she couldn’t talk about working for Rossum for security reasons. For a couple months it had been alright and it didn’t seem as though anything was changing much, if at all. Nine years had passed since…the accident, and seven of those were spent outside the hospital, and when Quinn showed no signs of recurrence trauma, she felt that maybe this time she had moved passed it and moved on.

That was until last week when she saw him in her kitchen.

Finnly. Her twin. Lost to a careless driving incident in London. They had only been nineteen, and the loss was so devastating to Quinn she had been struck silent with states of pure catatonia afterward. Nobody could seem to reach her, and Quinn was left alone in her own little world, even as her parents visited her in the psychiatric ward. But she was never alone. Finn had been with her the whole time, and she never spoke, except in their own secret language in her head, because she didn’t want the orderlies to know and give her medication that would make him go away. For a year and a half that carried on until broken, Quinn had just needed out. One twin was dead and was slowly turning the other insane with grief. So she spoke, and six months later she emerged from the hospital and left London, and hadn’t returned.

Quinn was too bright not to know she needed help, so for years she had been seeing someone to discuss her issues. That had to stop once she started working for Rossum, because she knew if she couldn’t be completely honest there would be no point. For a while she had tricked herself that she was fine, but when the smell of bacon hit her nose in a brownstone that only had her and her dog as the residents, and walking into the kitchen she had been met with the bright smile and easy eyes of the only man Quinn had ever loved, her brother Finnly DuPree, she knew it wasn’t over.

And so Quinn had become a client. She waited nervously for the Active, imprinted to be one of the finest psychiatrists, to arrive.

[quixoticquinn-blog]

Quinn’s smile turned somewhat guilty, indulgent, as her nose crinkled. She considered his proposal, and with a sigh, laughed and took the wine list. ❝Just because I don’t indulge doesn’t mean you can’t,❞ she complained half-heartedly, the corners of her mouth upturning in a grin.

Quinn was careful not to maintain too much eye contact with the cambion. She was aware of who and what it was that stepped into her House, and had a notion of what her betters were. Her own status as a noctis was certainly on record, as the medical staff needed to know how to treat those within the House. She wasn’t being deceitful, and had a feeling Neal wouldn’t pry without permission...he seemed gentlemanly like that. But, there were things that Quinn was hiding, and the blonde was aware of it. It was a game of just enough eye contact to show confidence, but not enough to leave one vulnerable; Quinn played the game well when speaking with liaisons for Rossum. Giving the man a grin she shrugged. ❝At least you get the opportunity to become an Old Boy...very unlikely to happen in my case,❞ she joked. Her icy blue eyes narrowed as he continued to talk. ❝Oh well not you’re just blatantly flattering me...❞ Raising an eyebrow she smirked at him. ❝Makes me question your agenda here, and what you’re actually trying to get me to reveal. I’m a Type-A personality that oversteps bounds by inches in effort to take miles and demands concessions as a way of maintaining control,❞ she said profiling herself. ❝Let’s call a spade a spade.❞

Giving the brunette a playful glare she handed the wine list to the waiter. ❝I’ll have the house chardonnay...and a glass of sparkling water.❞

Performance || Neal & Quinn

“Couldn’t agree more,” Neal smirked, setting down his menu. He grinned when she went with a sparkling water. “And here I was all set to indulge in a nice white wine. Can I persuade you, Quinn? There can’t be anything too terribly important on your schedule for this afternoon. If accounting baulks when they see my expense report, I’ll cover it myself.” He knew he was flirting somewhat, but he needed wanted Quinn to relax.

He told the waiter they would consider the wine selection and ordered himself a turkey avocado sandwich and a House salad for their appetizer. While she spoke, he maintained eye-contact without staring too intensely. He didn’t need to look past her eyes, into her soul, to tell she was being sincere in her answer. “I’ve gotten a bit of flack from the Old Boys’ Club as well, being the young upstart in their ranks. Add to that the fact that you’re a beautiful, confident woman, and it’s no wonder the grey-hairs up at corporate get all bristly about it. Their discrimination is only cowardice, Quinn. Your drive and vivacity intimidate them, which makes them cruel.” He knew other Houses struggled with occasional Active glitches, like the Bravo incident, but with only a slap on the wrist as punishment for all parties. Instead, the pigs in Upper Management had sacrificed the Doll to make an example out of Quinn.

“Yes, Jasper and Yankee intrigue me,” he began to reply when the waiter returned to their table with the bowl of salad. “Have you decided about the wine?” asked Neal.

[quixoticquinn-blog]

Quinn swallowed thickly as Victor now Mr. Garth blinked up at them before bringing his hands up in front of him, laughing at the difference. The technicians performed their standard tests after imprint, and the blonde turned to Victoria. She was glad that they had such a person as Victoria on her staff; it made blending in with high society easier. Many of her handlers came from security background and while competent in the field, were not known to seamlessly blend.

Quinn shook her head. ❝There were a couple of locations that Mr. Garth had mentioned in the engagement parameters, a sort of bucket list scenario, but it’s been flagged as high risk and romantic, as we don’t entirely know the nature of his desires,❞ the Director answered. ❝I wanted two of you on just in case his intentions became...unkind.❞ It made Quinn very nervous to grant this “life after death” scenario.

Death Becomes Them

Continued from [x]

Victoria stood slightly behind Quinn, watching the reclined chair rise, signaling the end of the imprint process. She only knew enough to fulfill her role as Handler for this engagement, but supposedly this client had given a donation large enough to make even the McCoy family fortunes seem minuscule by comparison. Apparently, even resurrection – if just a temporary one – had a price tag.

Victoria had been chosen to assist with this engagement because the circles in which the client needed to conduct their final affairs was just the sort of atmosphere she was used to. Still, she found the whole thing slightly unsettling.

“Um, Director,” she asked, turning toward Quinn as Ivy and Logan bustled around the Active, ensuring everything was as it should be, “is there an agenda planned for Mr. Garth?”

@quixoticquinn

[quixoticquinn-blog]

Death Becomes Them || Quinn + Juliet

...continued from нєяє

rowenxglass:

Casey tilted her head in thought. “I am in.” She didn’t really have a place in mind, so trying something new would be fun. She needed fun. She need excitement. Living her life to the fullest, was what she wanted to do the most.

“Perfect.” She grinned at Quinn as she followed her out. “Well, bar for starters, maybe meet a cute boy.” She winked playfully. “A strip club sounds daring.” She giggled a bit. “I also would like to just go on a hike, too.”

Quinn laughed as the girl listed off all the things she wanted to do. The Director couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be in such a young and virile body after being so sick and facing death. It didn’t sound unreasonable...though it did sound a bit random. She continued talking as Quinn escorted Casey through the Dollhouse and into the garage. 

❝So is this a bucket list engagement, or was there a purpose that you wanted to focus on by the end?❞ she asked, opening up her passenger side for the woman. As she did so she texted the handlers with the locations she was tentatively planning in case there was separation; they were good at their jobs and she wasn’t worried, but it was definitely easier to trail an active when known where they were going.

@rowenxglass

[quixoticquinn-blog]

Tilting her head to the side, Quinn gave the woman a grin. She hadn’t been privy to just what the client had needed to finish after death, but the blonde could imagine that knowing you’ve experienced death would warrant a drink. She tapped off instructions to the handlers that were connected to the engagement before giving her active a bright smile. ❝A bar? Well, if you don’t have anything specific in mind, I have just the place. Not too ritzy, not too dive, a gem right in the middle,❞ she offered.

Handing her tablet off to Christine, her assistant, Quinn gestured for Juliet...now Casey to proceed her out of the dressing suite. ❝We can take my Aston, the traffic will be light enough to not be a bother. Your engagement is for three weeks, Miss Fitz. What will you do with your extended time?❞ Quinn asked, making small talk as they entered the garage.

Death Becomes Them || OPEN

Juliet laid down on the chair. She gave a small smile to everyone in the room as she did so. Closing her eyes, she relaxed a bit before she was placed with the imprint. Flashes of life and personality went through the blonde’s mind. As the process was done, Juliet soon opened her eyes. 

She looked around the room again as she sat up. She looked down at her clothes and scrunched her nose. “Is there something more, proper I can wear?” She asked as she stood up and was directed to change. After putting on jeans and a thank top with a leather jacket, she smirked. Fixing her hair, she looked at everyone. “I want to go to a bar.”

[quixoticquinn-blog]

Quinn thought about it for a moment... ❝Or not. Sometimes imagining them without is twice as fun...❞ she mentioned with a smirk. When the waiter came to take their order, she decided on a club sandwich with fries and sparkling water. There was something about the bubbles in carbonated beverages that always made Quinn happy.

Placing her hands in her lap, Quinn couldn’t help but feel like she was being critiqued...which in many ways she was. She normally did well under pressure but between Bravo being sent to the attic and the mess with Cymbeline, there was much to discuss. She gave a wan smile at his question. ❝Personal growth? To be taken seriously by Upper Management? To make the Old Boy’s Club understand that just because I’m young and a woman doesn’t mean I cannot run a successful House. I suppose a real answer lies in Yankee and Jasper. They both have suffered trauma of some sort, resulting in the loss of their memories. I’m very interested in creating a pathway towards understanding how to get those back. We take scans from across the globe and use them for our purposes, but what if we could give back in a way to restore what was lost? We work with neural damages every day...I feel this is just another opportunity to do so.❞

Performance || Neal & Quinn

He shrugged. “To avoid that, we’d have to leave the city entirely, wouldn’t we? We’re not the kind of people who flee to avoid pressure. We stand up, take a deep breath, and imagine the audience in their underwear.” With a little smirk, Neal looked down at his own menu. “Please have whatever you want, Quinn. Rossum’s taking the check.”

Rossum in general wasn’t big on personal goals and individual career advancement. If the good of the company was furthered, that’s all that Upper Management cared about. But Neal’s opinion differed in that respect. “Do you have any personal growth areas you’re working towards? Fields of research? Specific clientele portfolios? Something that you’re working towards for yourself, regardless of what the senior partners demand?” He thought it was important to start this review with her own preferences, and then get on to the nitty-gritty of budgets and revenue.

[quixoticquinn-blog]

“I didn’t realize the contracts offered that kind of flexibility. That’s very thoughtful, and I’m sure it widens the range of young people who join the program for their own reasons.” She braced herself, staring at the door into the Imprint Room. “I suppose duty awaits. It was a pleasure to meet you, Director. I will certainly keep you apprised if I have any concerns or questions.” And I will need to bring up the break room coffee maker at some point. What a dreadful antique…

[quixoticquinn-blog]

Death Becomes Them || OPEN

Imprint Room | Afternoon

Quinn sighed deeply as she watched the active come up from the chair. It was a friend to Rossum that was imprinted for this engagement. Overall, Quinn found the idea and process...disruptive. Death was a natural process, and the idea of prolonging life after death seemed highly unnatural to the blonde. But the client had undergone extensive archiving before cancer finally took them, in order to complete this engagement.

Having been given a short life sentence, the client didn’t have enough time to get their affairs in order the way that they needed. It was agreed, with a seizable donation, that they would be allowed a few weeks within an active to conduct their business, and finish all of their affairs. Quinn had assigned two handlers to the active, as this would be an extended engagement, and insisted on overseeing the engagement herself. While it was important to keep the client happy, Quinn’s first priority was always her actives, and she wanted to make sure that someone looking for “life after death” would not put them in jeopardy.

[quixoticquinn-blog]

Quinn was familiar with upper management checking in with her. Not only was she the newest Director, she was the youngest, and one of a handful of women in a man’s world. The blonde had been wary of the handsome FBI Liaison sent to her; he had done his job well, and had been instrumental during the whole Cymbeline fiasco. But not once had Quinn forgotten that Neal worked for Rossum, not for her.

The bistro was one that she was familiar with. Quinn would often meet with clients here that wanted a more “hands on” approach to engagement design. She looked idly at her menu, and chuckled. ❝Maybe not breathing down our necks, but certainly peering at us from the sky rise, no?❞

Performance || Neal & Quinn

It was important to Neal that he and the Director of the Manhattan House remain on good terms, even if his obligations to Rossum meant that he was required to review her performance every couple of months. So he did what any self-respecting young man would do to make a good impression… and asked her to lunch.

There was a little bistro on the opposite street corner from the Dollhouse building. It was pricy, but Rossum would foot the bill… and that was part of the fun. Thankfully, there were no April clouds looming over New York that day, so they could be seated outside, within view of the House’s high-rise front, the facade that hid the underground facility.

“I thought we might as well have a pleasant time, pretend Rossum isn’t breathing down both our necks,” he smiled, peering over the top of his menu at the decisive blonde.

[quixoticquinn-blog]

Quinn tilted her head to the side. She always invited her employees to speak with her, especially about gut instincts when it came to clients and engagements. ❝What do you mean off? What struck you as odd?❞ she asked.

“I thought the engagement went fine, but I sometimes feel that are clients are a little bit.. off…” He said carefully, moving his glance to her eyes.

[quixoticquinn-blog]

Quinn nodded. ❝Wonderful, thank you for that Mr. Amiri. What was your overall general impression of the engagement? Besides the explosive theatrics?❞ she asked raising an eyebrow.

“The client understood exactly why I had to take her out of the engagement. He said he would be using Rossum in the future.” Jasper smiled softly before nodding his head.

[quixoticquinn-blog]

Nathaniel watched the Director, unsure exactly which part of his statements had caused the pondering look to appear on her face. Perhaps she was already compiling a list of the witnesses from Miss Underwood’s accident, or perhaps a particular name from the file had struck her more particularly.

“Of course, Director.” He could cooperate when it suited him. At the mention of the Tuscan conference, he had to resist a smirk, certain that Miss DuPree would find more opposition than support at a Rossum national gathering. Her youth and vivacity made her different, and in an organization like Rossum, different was often dangerous. “Have a pleasant trip,” he said, smiling through his teeth.

[quixoticquinn-blog]

Quinn hadn’t approached it from that angle yet. It was something she would need Trenton and Christine to look over and see if there were any similarities in the engagements for the active themselves. ❝Thank you Dr. Benton, you’ve given me some things to consider. Please let me know as soon as you have more information on Mr. Black. I don’t want to loose him to an engagement gone wrong.❞

Mess | OPEN

“That perplexes me as well. Perhaps there is some history between the client and the Active in question,” Nathaniel mused. “Repeat engagements – even the seemingly innocent romantic affairs – can have harmful implications to the Active.” Though the lack of forthright information frustrated him, Nathaniel understood why the other houses were not being particularly helpful where Quinn was concerned. It was no secret that her appointment as Director of such a prominent House had caused ripple effects throughout Rossum. He nodded, already reaching for his doctor’s valise. “I’ll take a security detail and report back as soon as I have Mr. Black.”