Categories > Movies > Descendants > Reckless Paradise
Quinn slept fitfully most of the time after returning to Auradon. she would often wake up in a cold sweat, gripping the hilt of her dagger that she kept under her pillow out of habit.
One night, someone shook her awake and before she was fully awake, Quinn had pressed the blade to the neck of –
“Woah, Quinn,” Dad said, backing away from her bed. “It’s just me.”
Quinn inhaled sharply and quickly dropped the dagger. It clattered to the wooden floor and she shook her head. “Sorry, Dad,” she mumbled, rubbing her face. “I’m just. still a little on edge.”
He sat down on the edge of her bed. “Quinn,” he said quietly. “Who’s Harper? You were saying his name.”
She looked down at the quilted bedspread. “He. he was one of the kids on the Isle,” she said hesitantly.
“What happened, Quinn?” Dad asked and there was pain in his voice.
When Quinn looked up, her eyes were filling with tears. “I couldn’t save him, Dad.” Her voice broke and she covered her face with her hands. “He was just a kid, a twelve-year-old kid, and I couldn’t save him.”
“Oh, kiddo,” Dad pulled her into a hug. “It’s not your fault. I’m sure you tried your best.”
“It’s just so frustrating!” she burst out, pulling away after a little while. “Those are kids! And they have nothing, not even control over their own lives. Even the most basic things like proper doctors – doctors of any kind! I was the ‘surgeon’ in the Crew because I had the most knowledge! It’s ridiculous! I take one First Aid class here and I’m more knowledgeable than the whole island! How is that fair?” The tears were really coming now, and Dad pulled her in again.
“I know, I know,” he said quietly.
Once Quinn had calmed down, and Dad was about to leave, he turned in the doorway. “That’s what drove you back, isn’t it? What happened to Harper?”
Quinn nodded. “It made me realize – well, Jax came up with it first – that nothing could be done from over there.”
“Who is Jax again?”
“Captain Hook’s son,” she said quickly. “He’s the leader of the Crew.”
Dad looked at her for a moment, as though he was trying to read the thoughts she was trying very hard to hide. Quinn thought she saw him smile a little, but in the dim light, it was difficult to tell. “Well, goodnight then, Quinn.”
“Goodnight, Dad,” Quinn said.
“I love you.”
It was such a simple phrase; one they had exchanged so often thoughtlessly. But when Quinn said, “Love you too.” It meant much more than it ever had. She was lucky, so incredibly lucky. And that was what had to keep her going.
•••
Quinn stood in front of the mirror. She was trying to go for a combination of her Isle clothes and her Sherwood clothes – she felt like she needed to represent both sides of herself. And she knew it was dumb; the Undergrounders were not going to judge her by her outfit – but still.
Dad knocked on the doorframe and peeked inside. “Ready to go?”
Quinn turned and smiled as confidently as she could. “Yep.”
They set off on horseback, joined by Mark when they passed his place. He looked her up and down and nodded approvingly. “Good choice.”
Dad was noticeably quiet for most of the ride.
“And you have nothing to worry about, Uncle John,” said Mark. “The Undergrounders are a very welcoming community. Everyone is super chill and non-judgmental.” He looked over at Quinn. “Although, you might want to keep the whole villain kid thing on the down-low.”
“Has the group ever been caught by the authorities?” Dad asked.
“I mean, we don’t commit any crimes,” Mark said. “But they do ignore us as long as we don’t cause trouble.”
The hall was packed in the Underground. They finally found seats just as the meeting was called to order.
A woman in an acid wash denim blazer and floral dress stood at the podium at the front. “Good morning, everybody.” She had a sweet voice. “Welcome all to the monthly open meeting of the Underground. I am Stella, the president of the Undergrounders’ Council.”
Various people came up and gave presentations on proposed actions against hero elitism, the effects of monarchal governments, and status reports on the small ways they were trying to influence public opinion. Quinn was particularly interested in a speech on how the education system, particularly at Auradon Prep, could be improved.
Finally, Stella came back up to the front. “We also have a special presentation from a newcomer in our midst.” She looked around the hall. “Quinn Little?”
Quinn took a deep breath and stood up. She felt the eyes of everyone follow her as she made her way to the front of the room, unfolding her page of notes as she went.
Stella smiled encouragingly as she stepped aside, and Quinn smoothed out her paper on the podium. She looked out at all the unfamiliar faces and found Dad and Mark nodding encouragingly, watching intently.
“Hi,” she said shakily, then cleared her throat. “so, I know that I’m new here, but I figured this was the best place for… well, what I want to say.” She winced a little at her own words but forged on. “Many important concerns have been brought forth here today, and I realize that a lot of this comes down to the culture of Auradon, which has many serious flaws. And the group that I think is bearing a lot of the consequences are the children of villains.” She expected to hear dissent or even a few whispers, but the crowd was mostly quiet, watching her intently. “The children on the Isle of the Lost have been set up to fail, having had no chance of having a good life. They were raised by parents, who for their crimes, were put in exile. These children’s only crime was being born to the wrong people.”
Quinn could feel her heart start to race with her anger and frustration and took a moment to calm herself. “I realize that you have many campaigns running, all with important goals, but I was hoping that I could get some assistance in a campaign to help the children of the Isle. I’ll, uh, be sticking around after the meeting if anyone wants to talk or has questions. Thank you.” Quinn made her way back down as the crowd politely applauded.
“That sounds great,” Stella said. “We would be happy to aid with our resources and expertise on your campaign.”
Quinn did not pay much attention to the rest of the meeting, only half-hearing Mark’s whispered congratulations (“Way to knock ‘em dead”) and half-seeing Dad’s proud smile.
When the meeting ended, multiple people came up to Quinn to talk. Chloe from The Princess’ Wardrobe was first. “I was hoping we’d see you around here again. The jacket looks great by the way.”
The man who had spoken about the education system was also interested. “So were you thinking of some kind of exchange program or more like outreach into the Isle itself?”
“Well, the problem for most of the kids is their parents’ influence, as well as abuse. An exchange program would be more effective.”
“Would you be aiming to change the minds of the public, or the king?” someone else asked.
“Well, preferably both,” Quinn said quickly.
The questions and comments came quickly and people spoke over each other and Quinn found herself taken by surprise by how seriously they were taking this topic.
Mark was better with logistics, so once they had a sizable group crowded around, he said. “We’ll have our first meeting above Chloe’s shop tomorrow at two. Everyone bring questions and suggestions so we can start planning.”
•••
The next few weeks were a flurry of meetings and late nights at Chloe’s place. Dad went back to Sherwood, but Quinn stayed at Mark’s apartment in Auradon City.
The campaign was called ‘Think of the Children,’ which Mark had come up with at the first meeting. Soon they had posters up all over the city. Many were taken down, but they kept putting them back up.
Cory, who had worked on the Sidekick campaign, had pulled strings to get them a press conference soon.
“We need to first get some curiosity,” he said. “We want people to see the posters and kinda wonder, then they’ll hear about the press conference and hopefully recognize the name.
•••
Quite a large crowd had turned up for the press conference, and while Quinn wanted to be encouraged by that, she knew that a lot of them did not support the cause. From her seat to the side, she went over her speech and tried to keep her hands from trembling.
Finally, the time came and Quinn walked up to the podium. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Across the narrow sea, Jax was rooting for her, the whole Crew was. And so were Dad and Mark and a bunch more people.
“Hello, everyone,” Quinn said into the microphone. “A lot of you are probably wondering what this is exactly about. I’m sure you’ve seen the posters for our campaign: Think of the Children. And that is what this is about: the children.” She looked out over the crowd. They seemed to be with her. For now. “The children of the villains who are living on the Isle.” There were whispers among the crowd. Quinn looked over at Dad, who nodded encouragingly. “They need help. They need our help.” There was audible outrage now but she kept going. “I know how this sounds, but they are children as well. Just like any child born here in Auradon. They are no different. Just because they were born to villains does not mean that they are any less valuable than those born to heroes. Why should they suffer for their parents’ crimes?”
“They’re villains!” someone cried out.
“Traitors!” shouted another.
One night, someone shook her awake and before she was fully awake, Quinn had pressed the blade to the neck of –
“Woah, Quinn,” Dad said, backing away from her bed. “It’s just me.”
Quinn inhaled sharply and quickly dropped the dagger. It clattered to the wooden floor and she shook her head. “Sorry, Dad,” she mumbled, rubbing her face. “I’m just. still a little on edge.”
He sat down on the edge of her bed. “Quinn,” he said quietly. “Who’s Harper? You were saying his name.”
She looked down at the quilted bedspread. “He. he was one of the kids on the Isle,” she said hesitantly.
“What happened, Quinn?” Dad asked and there was pain in his voice.
When Quinn looked up, her eyes were filling with tears. “I couldn’t save him, Dad.” Her voice broke and she covered her face with her hands. “He was just a kid, a twelve-year-old kid, and I couldn’t save him.”
“Oh, kiddo,” Dad pulled her into a hug. “It’s not your fault. I’m sure you tried your best.”
“It’s just so frustrating!” she burst out, pulling away after a little while. “Those are kids! And they have nothing, not even control over their own lives. Even the most basic things like proper doctors – doctors of any kind! I was the ‘surgeon’ in the Crew because I had the most knowledge! It’s ridiculous! I take one First Aid class here and I’m more knowledgeable than the whole island! How is that fair?” The tears were really coming now, and Dad pulled her in again.
“I know, I know,” he said quietly.
Once Quinn had calmed down, and Dad was about to leave, he turned in the doorway. “That’s what drove you back, isn’t it? What happened to Harper?”
Quinn nodded. “It made me realize – well, Jax came up with it first – that nothing could be done from over there.”
“Who is Jax again?”
“Captain Hook’s son,” she said quickly. “He’s the leader of the Crew.”
Dad looked at her for a moment, as though he was trying to read the thoughts she was trying very hard to hide. Quinn thought she saw him smile a little, but in the dim light, it was difficult to tell. “Well, goodnight then, Quinn.”
“Goodnight, Dad,” Quinn said.
“I love you.”
It was such a simple phrase; one they had exchanged so often thoughtlessly. But when Quinn said, “Love you too.” It meant much more than it ever had. She was lucky, so incredibly lucky. And that was what had to keep her going.
•••
Quinn stood in front of the mirror. She was trying to go for a combination of her Isle clothes and her Sherwood clothes – she felt like she needed to represent both sides of herself. And she knew it was dumb; the Undergrounders were not going to judge her by her outfit – but still.
Dad knocked on the doorframe and peeked inside. “Ready to go?”
Quinn turned and smiled as confidently as she could. “Yep.”
They set off on horseback, joined by Mark when they passed his place. He looked her up and down and nodded approvingly. “Good choice.”
Dad was noticeably quiet for most of the ride.
“And you have nothing to worry about, Uncle John,” said Mark. “The Undergrounders are a very welcoming community. Everyone is super chill and non-judgmental.” He looked over at Quinn. “Although, you might want to keep the whole villain kid thing on the down-low.”
“Has the group ever been caught by the authorities?” Dad asked.
“I mean, we don’t commit any crimes,” Mark said. “But they do ignore us as long as we don’t cause trouble.”
The hall was packed in the Underground. They finally found seats just as the meeting was called to order.
A woman in an acid wash denim blazer and floral dress stood at the podium at the front. “Good morning, everybody.” She had a sweet voice. “Welcome all to the monthly open meeting of the Underground. I am Stella, the president of the Undergrounders’ Council.”
Various people came up and gave presentations on proposed actions against hero elitism, the effects of monarchal governments, and status reports on the small ways they were trying to influence public opinion. Quinn was particularly interested in a speech on how the education system, particularly at Auradon Prep, could be improved.
Finally, Stella came back up to the front. “We also have a special presentation from a newcomer in our midst.” She looked around the hall. “Quinn Little?”
Quinn took a deep breath and stood up. She felt the eyes of everyone follow her as she made her way to the front of the room, unfolding her page of notes as she went.
Stella smiled encouragingly as she stepped aside, and Quinn smoothed out her paper on the podium. She looked out at all the unfamiliar faces and found Dad and Mark nodding encouragingly, watching intently.
“Hi,” she said shakily, then cleared her throat. “so, I know that I’m new here, but I figured this was the best place for… well, what I want to say.” She winced a little at her own words but forged on. “Many important concerns have been brought forth here today, and I realize that a lot of this comes down to the culture of Auradon, which has many serious flaws. And the group that I think is bearing a lot of the consequences are the children of villains.” She expected to hear dissent or even a few whispers, but the crowd was mostly quiet, watching her intently. “The children on the Isle of the Lost have been set up to fail, having had no chance of having a good life. They were raised by parents, who for their crimes, were put in exile. These children’s only crime was being born to the wrong people.”
Quinn could feel her heart start to race with her anger and frustration and took a moment to calm herself. “I realize that you have many campaigns running, all with important goals, but I was hoping that I could get some assistance in a campaign to help the children of the Isle. I’ll, uh, be sticking around after the meeting if anyone wants to talk or has questions. Thank you.” Quinn made her way back down as the crowd politely applauded.
“That sounds great,” Stella said. “We would be happy to aid with our resources and expertise on your campaign.”
Quinn did not pay much attention to the rest of the meeting, only half-hearing Mark’s whispered congratulations (“Way to knock ‘em dead”) and half-seeing Dad’s proud smile.
When the meeting ended, multiple people came up to Quinn to talk. Chloe from The Princess’ Wardrobe was first. “I was hoping we’d see you around here again. The jacket looks great by the way.”
The man who had spoken about the education system was also interested. “So were you thinking of some kind of exchange program or more like outreach into the Isle itself?”
“Well, the problem for most of the kids is their parents’ influence, as well as abuse. An exchange program would be more effective.”
“Would you be aiming to change the minds of the public, or the king?” someone else asked.
“Well, preferably both,” Quinn said quickly.
The questions and comments came quickly and people spoke over each other and Quinn found herself taken by surprise by how seriously they were taking this topic.
Mark was better with logistics, so once they had a sizable group crowded around, he said. “We’ll have our first meeting above Chloe’s shop tomorrow at two. Everyone bring questions and suggestions so we can start planning.”
•••
The next few weeks were a flurry of meetings and late nights at Chloe’s place. Dad went back to Sherwood, but Quinn stayed at Mark’s apartment in Auradon City.
The campaign was called ‘Think of the Children,’ which Mark had come up with at the first meeting. Soon they had posters up all over the city. Many were taken down, but they kept putting them back up.
Cory, who had worked on the Sidekick campaign, had pulled strings to get them a press conference soon.
“We need to first get some curiosity,” he said. “We want people to see the posters and kinda wonder, then they’ll hear about the press conference and hopefully recognize the name.
•••
Quite a large crowd had turned up for the press conference, and while Quinn wanted to be encouraged by that, she knew that a lot of them did not support the cause. From her seat to the side, she went over her speech and tried to keep her hands from trembling.
Finally, the time came and Quinn walked up to the podium. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Across the narrow sea, Jax was rooting for her, the whole Crew was. And so were Dad and Mark and a bunch more people.
“Hello, everyone,” Quinn said into the microphone. “A lot of you are probably wondering what this is exactly about. I’m sure you’ve seen the posters for our campaign: Think of the Children. And that is what this is about: the children.” She looked out over the crowd. They seemed to be with her. For now. “The children of the villains who are living on the Isle.” There were whispers among the crowd. Quinn looked over at Dad, who nodded encouragingly. “They need help. They need our help.” There was audible outrage now but she kept going. “I know how this sounds, but they are children as well. Just like any child born here in Auradon. They are no different. Just because they were born to villains does not mean that they are any less valuable than those born to heroes. Why should they suffer for their parents’ crimes?”
“They’re villains!” someone cried out.
“Traitors!” shouted another.
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