The past week has been fairly decent where sleep is involved. Sleeping during the night is not an option but the daytime hours have been more forgiving and allowing for some slumber. With a clear head and an empty schedule, Quinn sets out to purchase some more upgrades for the warehouse. It would be better if she focused on repairing the outside but she has no desire to do so. In her mind she'd much rather people assume that it is abandoned so they don't realize that she lives there. She just wants to be left alone.
With her purchase complete, the Niveus uses a dolly to wheel an incredibly large box towards the front door of the warehouse. This may look rather awkward to any passing by on the street as she's wearing her dress pants and a fancy dress shirt. She's obviously far from a delivery person. As strong as she is, however, the wound on her hip is causing Quinn to struggle somewhat. So close to the door yet just too far away to do anything, she fights with the dolly with little help.
—
Wouldn't you know it - Ivan just happens to be walking out here. Doing what is, really, anyone's guess. he doesn't LOOK like he's picking up cheap hookers - but hey. Anything goes. However, the sight of the familiar woman struggling ends up leading him towards her. He's about to reach a hand out to get her attention, but quickly recalling the last time he touched her without notice, the limb is retracted. "Well, what do we have here?" There's a faint smile on his face as he looks to Quinn. "Need help there?"
—
Yes, Ivan. This enemy turned not quite as big of an enemy is standing outside of the 'abandoned' warehouse where the new coven meetings are to be held. Coincidence? At least she's reaching for the main entrance and not one that indicates she may be attempting to break in. Thankfully for Ivan he announces his presence before he makes any contact with her. As he's found out before, it never ends well. Instead Quinn lowers the dolly to the ground and just sighs. A few curses escape her lips at the same time, marking her very much not a lady.
"Fontane." A sigh is made as she attempts to catch her breath. "This was easier the last time I did this." Her words are spoken as she massages her thigh. "But hell, I'm not really in the mood for a game of cat and mouse. Can you just help me get this inside? Apparently the concrete doesn't like the dolly so much." Yes, oh yes, Quinn just asked for help. Stranger things have happened.
—
"I've got it. So…" Ivan looks over to the warehouse then, quirking his brows in interest. "I've been here before…I'm almost sure of it…" Beat. "Ah! This stuff for the coven that Scarlett left it for you to bring in?" Moving smoothly, he takes over her position to ease the objects towards the warehouse. While Ivan isn't exactly a body builder, he's not weak either, so that works to his advantage.
—
It isn't that the box is overly heavy, and the dolly really does help a lot. The cracks in the sidewalk are the issue but without being injured he can handle it easily enough. Quinn in the meantime punches in her security code and opens the door. It's held open for Ivan to enter as well as he can. What he'll find is that she's not leading him into some secret door into the office for the coven. Instead she's showing him into the rest of the giant area, which likely may scare him due to the way that it's decorated. "Actually, she doesn't have me get stuff for her. She just rents off of me. It's great for me. She doesn't bother me and I don't have to do anything."
—
Ivan blinks a couple of times, although she explains it all with time. Letting out a noise of recognition, he can't help but peer around the larger portion of the warehouse as he's invited inside. Indeed, his eyes end up fixing upon the various weapons with some level of trepidation. "I…err…where do you want me to put this? And that'd make sense. Thanks for…well. Renting it to Scar." Beat. Finally, he can't help but blurt it out. "Jesus, you weren't kidding when you were talking about fighting, were you?"
—
With the box inside, she points to a semi-open area. "Nothing in it is fragile. You can literally just drop it over there. I can work with it later to get everything into place." The words 'thank you' nearly escape her lips but she catches herself as she remembers who she's speaking with. Especially when he comments on her living space. "A decade and a half of Jeet Kun Do training does that to a person, especially when it's incorporated into one's life as much as it is with mine." He likely doesn't want to know why. "And, eh. I was drunk when I offered and she needed a place. It wasn't a favor or anything."
—
Ivan can't help it, he is quite curious at this point, and is staring at the box with unabated curiosity. "What is in here, if you don't mind me asking? More weapons, perhaps?" A legitimate guess, judging by the decor. "A decade and a half of Jeet Kun Do. Wow." He lets out an impressed whistle. "You must be…pretty damn good, huh? Good at defending yourself and all? Oh - I didn't mean to insinuate it was. I was just…ah, nevermind."
—
He is wrong and will likely be disappointed. "Sparring dummy." It's not quite to the level of weapons but at least it serves a purpose. "I met a guy. I think I might be able to get my future weapon needs from him. Hopefully he works with silver, too." Yes, she met a guy but no she doesn't like him, Scarlett. Quinn rolls her shoulders into a shrug. "If I was better I wouldn't have gotten hurt like I did, but I'm working on it. Sometimes, I believe, luck has everything to do with it." Quinn's actually making small talk which shows that she's not actually being her usual self. Once she realizes this she rolls her eyes and get suddenly colder. "Yeah, so just don't go poking around in here when you're visiting her."
—
"You met a guy? I take it that's impressive for you, then?" Ivan can't help but tease Quinn right there. it's just what he does. How he rolls. "Well, who were you fighting? That's how you got hurt, right?" If he notices her sudden drop in temperature, he doesn't comment on it, instead merely crossing his arms over his chest and staring around. "Heh. Yes ma'am. I assume that if I do poke around, you'll poke me right back with something sharp and pointy."
—
The comment is one that warrants an immediate response. Quinn balls up a fist and makes to punch Ivan. Thankfully for him she remembers who he is and why he's here. That's the only thing saving his arm from killing him later on. "It's not like that. I /could/ sleep with anyone that I wanted to. This guy is just someone to get weapons off of, ass." They're not in public so she doesn't actually have to be nice to him. "It could have been worse, really. I'm lucky I just got hit with one of my own weapons. If it really wanted to I likely would be dead." AS with the last conversation, if he mentions that to anyone she'll deny it. "Let's just say that I sleep during the day and I get really grouchy if someone wakes me up."
—
"Ah…that'd explain the need of silver weapons…" It's with curiosity that Quinn is examined at this point, but soon enough he cuts his own musings off, shaking his head slightly. "Don't tell me anymore. It's better for you if I remain blissfully unaware." After all, he wouldn't tell anyone - but he will be working with Chloe. Who might read into his mind and reveal Quinn's identity to the vampires if prompted. He doesn't react to her meanness…because really? It's tame, considering the abuse he gets from loved ones almost daily.
—
He's such a good man, that Ivan, or at least smart. She won't admit to that, either. "Yeah, well, I wasn't planning on telling you anymore. It's really none of your business." It does explain why she chooses not to have friends, however. "But I guess I should do something with this place in case I don't return." She'll leave information with someone, likely Scarlett. "It's not like I'm doing anything right now anyway. It's kind of hard to move sometimes." At the very least she knows that her weapons are sharp. The fact that they're playing 'nice' is really starting to eat at Quinn somewhat. "You want a drink or something since you helped with that?"
—
"Mhmm?" Ivan peers back at Quinn with consideration, before nodding his head a couple of times. "I've a Will set up, just in case. But…the place suits you, that's for sure." She sure is reflected in her home. When the drink is offered? Well, Ivan is just baffled, really. "…Heh. Maybe one, if you wouldn't mind. But it was nothing, really." He assures, even though he hasn't been thanked. "I needed to find you, anyway. And thank you. I gave her the ring." Beat. "She loved it."
—
A will. "The problem being that I don't really have anyone that I'd want any of this to go to. I'll have to find somewhere to make donations." It's a warped train of thought but honestly she's not lying. Quinn moves over to the stairs and motions for Ivan to follow her, mostly so she doesn't have to make the full trip. "Kitchen's upstairs." When she opens the door leading into the kitchen area he may be taken aback again. It is a perfectly set up kitchen, decorated wonderfully in reds and blacks. It doesn't seem to fit the theme of the rest of the warehouse. "Okay, Fontane, let me ask you this," Quinn mentions on the way to the kitchen. "Does she love it because it's perfect, or does she love it because you put some thought into something for her?"
—
Ivan follows after her. It doesn't strike him at all that she could be leading him to his imminent death, nope, not at all. But as he climbs up the stairs, he look intrigued. "Most kitchens are on the first floor. This is…" And then he looks around the red and black room. "…Cool. Well, you're away from your family, right? So, no use in giving them the place. I guess finding a cause to donate to would be the best move." But now, Quinn's speaking about him. "Mhmm? Well, does it really matter, either way? Maybe it's a combination of both? Maybe it's perfect because I put some thought into it?"
—
The fridge is opened and a drink is passed over to Ivan. She pops one open for herself and leans against one of the granite countertops. "Well, yes, but I don't want people to know that I actually live here. If they start seeing signs of actual habitat then things happen. Right now? People will just think that I have some sort of crazy weapon studio going on." Quinn really does go out of her way to just be left alone. "I'll write in a clause that protects Scarlett's section." As if that's a worry or something. Very seriously then she looks Ivan square in the eye. "Yes, Fontane. It matters." The female illusionist shakes her head at him. "You strike me as an arrogant ass, you know that? Just in the way you're seen in the public. When it came to that damn piece of jewelry? You were pathetic." Yes, she's being blunt. "I think you've got your life backwards. You need to realize what you should be cocky about and where you should be more guarded."
—
"Ah…you have a way with words, Quinn." Ivan drawls bitterly, smiling in that humorless fashion. With a deep sigh, he then proceeds to open up his drink and take in a big gulp of it. "Yeah? Well, you think you've got your priorities and stuff all straight? Then give me advice. What should I be cocky about, and where should I be more guarded?" He challenges, just waiting patiently for her response.
—
He may not want her advice but she's in a giving mood. "Yeah, I have my life put together. You may not like it, but it's where I want to be. I make a point not to have anyone close to me, to be withdrawn." While Quinn's attitude is second nature at this point he should know that she's smart enough to have something up her sleeve. "My opinion? Is that the tabloids are always wrong, so you got yourself a decent woman. If she hasn't left you yet or crumbled apart with what's happened? Then you're going to be happy with her. But don't second guess yourself. Don't doubt anything. I'm pretty sure that with who she is she could likely be gone if she wasn't intending on being with you." Yes, she's judging his apprehension about some things based off of the jewelry store encounter. He was trying too hard.
"What I think you need to worry about is your job and the people you're bound to associate with. You already have to know what kind of issues you're going to have by marrying this woman. On top of that, that Mayor of yours is dabbling too closely with vampire kind. He's going to get you involved. This new contender seems to have a strong following. If he doesn't run you out of a job? He may make things uncomfortable for you because of the views of the guy you work for." A swig of her beer is taken. "But I really don't like politics."
—
It's sound advice. Ivan's complete and total silence ought to let her know. However, all he ends up doing in the end is licking his lips, gingerly. "Having a close relationship with the vampiric kind is necessary. Believe me when I say, I despise vampires. I don't trust them. They're parasitic aberrations. But they are powerful. And if we don't work with them rather than against them, the streets will run red with blood. Literally."
—
It may not be advice that he expected from her, but she's not completely out of her mind. "Doesn't that say something right there, though?" For as aggressive as Quinn can be, this conversation is being had with soft tones. "And I'm not getting on your case about vampire relations and the views of your boss. That's not my place. But you're sticking your neck out there, knowingly I just find out, and yet have you thought about the continued danger that it puts your soon to be wife in?" The with drinks more of her beer, enjoying the taste even though she's not planning on having more than one. "She's been in the news more time than I can think of. Have you ever thought that it has something to do with you?"
—
Quinn has hit a sore spot. Ivan's entire expression becomes rather…contrived. Uncertain, and very displeased. "…" Silence, yet again. The woman is on a roll. "I…I take special precautions, when it comes to her. To protect her." Those precautions he will not highlight to anyone. "I have to do this. It's the only way to regulate and keep the city safe. I know it. So does she. It's not the safest job, ever, but someone has to do it…and I'm afraid no one else would."
—
Hitting sore spots is what she does best. It's what she tries to do. "As long as you're thinking about it." There's a brief pauses as she shakes her head. "Hell, what do I care? I've never met her and it's not like I know you. All I /do/ know is how I saw you react in that jewelry store. I know what your sister thinks of you but I just want you to make sure that you /think/ before doing something." The beer is finished and the container thrown in her recycling bin. Yes, Quinn recycles. "You want to be a cowboy? Great. I just don't want to have to clean up any messes." This could be an offer for her to clean up his messes, or it could just be a blanket statement.
—
Ivan frowns slightly, before throwing back more of the beverage. "I do think before I do things…" He's petulant when he says this - a little sour. However, he just ends up blinking and staring at Quinn for her…unorthodox words that follow. "I want to be a… a what?" He asks, before breaking out into an even laugh. "A cowboy? Where the hell did that come from!"
—
This causes her to roll her eyes. "Fine. Vigilante. Does that sound better to you? Because in case you haven't heard yourself speak, that's exactly what you sound like." Now it's Quinn's turn to fold her arms before her as she stands there watching her former rival. "You're not the only person out there that wants to fight to make a difference, Fontane. Other people will be willing to help you. Don't take a burden on like this alone because you'll get hurt, and it will end up hurting /her/." This is actually most likely awkward coming from her. "But hey, what do I know?"
—
Sometimes, Quinn can be remarkably unsettling. Finding that he has nothing to say, sine he doesn't want to go off on a rant about his cosmic duties, he pauses. "…I…think I should get going now." The rest of the beer is thrown back, and with a frown he looks around, before hesitantly moving towards the recycling bin. "I'll think about it. What you're saying."
—
"Eh, whatever." So elegant. "It's not my place. And honestly, I don't care in the end. But since you're in my home I'm speaking my mind." The kitchen is tidied up slightly and she closes the door behind them once they exit it. "Normal disclaimers apply. You speak a word of any of this and I'll deny it. I might even cut your tongue out while you sleep." And she'll remain upstairs as he leaves, allowing him to show himself out. "Oh, and thanks for the help, Cowboy."
