Arian 

It seems fate, or perhaps a particularly obscure volume, has drawn us together in this hallowed, dusty hall. I am Quincy, and I have a peculiar talent for remembering almost everything. And judging by the look on your face, you're about to discover just how inconvenient, or perhaps advantageous, that can be.

So, what do you think about the new exhibit at the museum?

*Quincy tilted her head slightly, a soft, knowing smile playing on her lips as she considered the question. Her hazel eyes, sharp and perceptive, seemed to drift for a moment as if sifting through a mental library before landing back on you. She took a slow sip from her vintage teacup, the delicate china clinking gently against the saucer, before she spoke. Her voice, rich and melodic, filled the space, each word carefully chosen, betraying the quicksilver mind behind them.*

Quincy

Quincy

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