http://cheerioless.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] cheerioless.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] taxonomites2011-07-21 10:49 pm

[ accidental visual / quinn's apartment ]

Quinn is in the bedroom of her apartment, she is dressed in a short light pink satin bathrobe – with a towel wrapped around her head. Since she can’t go her regular spa back home, she has spent the entire day doing her own home spa activities. She’s done the long luxurious bath (with extra bubbles), she’s done the face mask, she’s done her nails (both fingers and toes), and now she is dancing around her room sipping lemonade and eating cookies. She had thought about getting some fruity alcoholic drink, but decided against it. If possible she never wants to touch booze again.

The music is playing full blast, it’s an old cheesy pop song, which makes her think of Mr. Schuster and the rest of the glee club. A part of her misses them, and there is a tiny part of her that doesn’t. A tiny part of her which is happy she is here, happy she is away from them and their judgment and drama.

The song on the radio switches, to one she recognizes and she immediately begins to sing, the dancing is becoming more like jumping as she spins and twirls about the room.

“There’s a fire starting in my heart. Reaching a fever pitch and it’s bringing me out the dark,” Quinn sings, as she sets her lemonade glass down on a side table and grabs the television remote to use as a pretend microphone. “Finally I can see you crystal clear, go ahead and sell me out and I’ll lay your ship bear.”

She keeps twirling as she sings the verses, getting more and more into the song. If anything this is what she misses the most. She misses the music, even if she was a background singer; there was just something about singing.

When the chorus starts up Quinn jumps up onto her bed, her hair towel flying off. “We could have had it all-all-all! Rolling in the dee-eee-eeep! You had my heart and so-ou-ou-oul. You had my heart inside your hand! But you played it to the beat!”

She starts to jump on the bed now. She jumps up and down like a little kid on Christmas. It might as well be Christmas, losing herself in the music, has the exact same magic Christmas once held to her.

[visual]

[identity profile] smecker.livejournal.com 2011-08-16 08:09 am (UTC)(link)
"Yeah, welcome to Taxon," he answers dryly at her words of people just ignoring the message. "I'm FBI-- well, I was-- and the whole 'civil servant' thing hasn't been kicked out of me yet. Alas."

He nods a little at her not-quite-an-answer; what's unsaid there is as telling as what she does say.

"I had the particular joy of having someone nom on my throat too, a few months before you," he says while digging out his cigarettes. "While I am a terrible fu-- a terrible person for the role of sympathetic ear, I.... just wanted to check on you from the position of knowing what if feels like. It's not okay that it happened to you. This city... warps your sensibilities of what's normal, after a while, but hold on to that: it's not okay."