Long Overdue

[Quinn O'Hara]

It had been nearly a week since the attempt to save Missy had gone wrong. The cave in nearly taking him and the lot out. Thankfully they all made it out alive, something that couldn't be said of those who were attempting to turn them into that night's stew. The only difference was that Quinn had been separated from the group, where they escaped above he had tumbled below into a crack where a series of tunnels seemed to intertwine together.

The tunnels were dark, cold, damp, the only sound was the occasional rubble pouring in from above and the slow trickle of water dripping from the ceiling and becoming an annoyance as the drops seemed to favor the top of his head. From his pack he drew a rod of hidden light activating it so he could see. Thankfully the rod's light was only visible to him, allowing him to walk through the cave without disturbing it's inhabitants. He was quite, his steps were careful, he became one with the shadows just as his training had taught him.

It would feel would like hours before he found a way out. What looked like the after effect of a rock slide was positioned against the east side of cave and at the top, a crack that held a sliver of moonlight that broke through. He climbed up and began to squeeze through, it was a hard fit, at first only able to get his one arm and leg through while the rock stopped him at his chest. He sighed, shifted to his toes so that he stood taller and sucked in his gut. He barely made it as it led him into the dense forest and suddenly he felt at home. "I need a break," Quinn swept his hood so that it fell across his back and his hand began to idly squeeze and pull at the back of his neck, massaging it and working away the kinks. 

On his way back towards the Den he decided to take his advice and make a detour. He'd head back to Sarkotos and when he stood in front of the tattoo parlor he thought about the woman inside. The way she looked, how she was covered in paint and it all seem so natural, the way she spoke, joked, everything. It had been weeks since he asked her to come join him for a drink. He was pretty sure she most likely forgot about him, but there was a chance. He made his way inside, his hand finding the nearest table and he let his fingers dance along it, giving the wood a small drum, his eyes dancing around the room as he took in the small parlor. He looked towards the paints and the chair where he had once sat to get his own tattoo. He recalled every moment. He'd wait for her to come face to face with him before he smiled briefly, "Hey, sorry it's been so long, got a little tied up. I hope you're still up for that drink?" 

[Tahlia Vex]

Little had changed about the shop or Tahlia for that matter – she still had smudged ink on her cheek, her hair was still in a mess of a pony tail, and it looked like she was still wearing the same outfit. It was the same outfit, but obviously, she hadn’t been wearing it since the last he saw of her. “Just a minute…” She said upon hearing the jingle of the bell above the door; she was halfway through finishing a design on the copy parchment when he had entered. “I’m booked up all day but I can fit…” She had turned around about that point, and when she settled her gaze upon him, a frown creased the corners of her lips. “Shut the door, quickly.” Tahlia’s whole voice had changed, the friendliness that had been there before when she thought him a new customer was gone, and there was a hint of panic.

“Did you see anyone outside? Do they know you're here?” Something had obviously happened to Tahlia recently, though she was loathed to get into it; it was her livelihood, her business, and her life that she was concerned with, rather than him. It wasn’t because she was unfeeling, but she harboured some resentment to the man that had asked her to join him in a drink, and then never returned. If and when he shut the door, Tahlia scowled at him, pointing the paintbrush she’d had in her hand the whole time right at him. “Who the hell are you? And why are there thugs knocking down my door in the middle of the night asking about your tattoo?” Whether she had said anything about it would, for now, remain a mystery, for she was going to make him squirm as payment for what he’d put her through since their flirtation!

[Quinn O'Hara]

The smudge on her cheek made him smile, not a fake or sarcastic smile either, a genuine smile, an actual rarity when it came to the man. Yet something seemed wrong, the air felt different when she turned and when he saw her frown and then panic, everything about that smile sank. He looked over his shoulder, sure that he wasn't followed, he would have noticed someone tracing his steps. He tried to recall anyone outside and he shook his head, no one came to mind. To ease her mind he shut the door and remained near it, not so close so that if it came crashing down he'd be knocked out, but close enough that if someone did come in, he'd be ready. His brow rose and he began to ask questions, "what's going on?"

It was hard to tell who she was afraid of, the thugs she had mentioned, or him. He took in what information there was and waved his hands in front of him trying to get her to relax, or at least to put the paint brush down, "I told you already, my names Quinn, Quinn O'Hara, are you okay and who were these thugs?" His tone made it apparent that he was more worried for her than the thugs,  but for now he remained at his post. 

When the tattoo was mentioned he didn't delve into the exact details of it, though he had made note that people were scoping out those who were branded with it, "the tattoo, my family may be in danger, so anything you can tell me about these thugs would be of great help," his voice didn't seem as concerned about his family, they could hold their own, her on the other hand... He took a step forward and offered her an opening to either slap him, hug him or just deck him. It was a hard situation to deal with, Shepherd would have told him he was having a moment of weakness, yet it weighed on him, had he not been gone for so long, perhaps he could have protected her, done something.