Categories > Movies > Descendants > Reckless Paradise
It became more and more difficult to go out in public. The way people whispered and shot glances her way reminded Quinn of high school in the worst way possible. She had started living with Chloe to be closer to the action and she missed Dad and Sherwood.
Routine set in – a depressing routine that seemed to accomplish nothing. She signed up for audiences with the king and queen every Monday – which were always refused. So, they would demonstrate in front of the palace on Tuesday or Wednesday. If the demonstrators were deemed ‘too loud’ or ‘provoking un-goodness,’ she and a bunch of others may spend the night in a cell. Then they would have a meeting at Chloe’s apartment to discuss progress.
And sometimes there was actual progress: a few new people had joined from outside the Underground and Sherwood, or reports of smaller demonstrations in other regions in Auradon. Once, Prince Aladdin and Princess Jasmine, the leaders of the Lone Keep region, had issued a statement saying that although they did not fully agree with Think of the Children’s message, they acknowledged that people could change. After all, Aladdin, a former thief, was proof of that.
But most of the time, they would leave the meeting less heartened than they had upon entering it.
On the weekends, Quinn would pore over the footage from the Isle crime reports on tv, trying to piece together what was going on over there. She would smile when she saw a familiar face on the grainy footage – even if it was just Fabienne Facilier or Josephine from the Queens. She knew the Crew had disabled the cameras around the docks ages ago – which she had been grateful for in her time there, but now lamented – so she had to rely on the downtown cameras to catch a glimpse of them. And she rarely did.
•••
When she was in Sherwood, Quinn had taken to sitting on the roof of their house to think at night, since it was the closest thing to the Jolly Roger’s crow’s nest. She hugged her knees and looked up at the stars she could see through the leaves of the trees above her. Although she spent her last month or so on the Isle sleeping alone, she missed Jax beside her.
She heard the roof creak slightly and saw Dad climbing up to sit beside her. “I see you haven’t lost your climbing skills,” he said.
Quinn smiled. “I was able to keep them up on the Jolly Roger’s ratlines, as well as the buildings of the city.”
“And how do ships and cities compare to trees?” he asked.
She thought about it for a moment. “The Isle had hardly any green, which I missed. A lot. But the seaside breezes were nice. And there’s nothing quite like a thunderstorm while onboard a ship.”
They sat in silence for a minute or so. “I had a boyfriend over there,” she said finally. She was not sure why she had not told him yet. She and Dad had always been able to talk about everything, including romance. He was the first person she told that she had kissed Winston Scarlett and didn’t want to be with him but didn’t want to tell him because no story she learned about at school had a princess tell a prince that. And he had told her to tell him anyway because those princesses had lived in a very different time.
He looked over at her and said nothing, prompting her to continue.
“His name is Jax, Captain Hook’s son. He was one of the first people I met on the Isle and he helped me even though I told him who my father was.” Dad listened patiently as it all spilled out: the training, the kiss in the alleyway, flings on the Isle, all the way to Seamus’ blackmail, how he supported her through the outbreak of whooping cough and finally helping her to come back. “I love him, Dad.”
He just nodded and enfolded her in a hug. “He must be a very special guy.”
Quinn nodded. “I miss him.”
“Then you have another thing to fight for,” he said. “And I’m sure he’s fighting just as hard to get back to you.”
Her conversation was much less serious and much more, well, Mark-like.
“Are you telling me you lost your v-card to a pirate on a pirate ship?”
“Oh, I regret telling you already.”
They were sparring with quarterstaffs behind his parents’ house.
“Little baby Quinn –”
“Shut up,” she said, but she was laughing.
“– sleeping with – what was his name again?”
“Jax.”
“Please tell me it’s spelled with an X.”
“It is.”
“Wonderfully scandalous.”
Quinn thwacked his leg with her quarterstaff while he was distracted.
Things continued to go badly for the campaign, and Quinn decided to stay a bit longer in Sherwood. One evening, after racking her brain, she tossed her notebook onto the coffee table in frustration. She sighed. “They just don’t care.” She ran her hands through her hair. “And I don’t know how to make them care.”
Mark looked over from where he sat at the kitchen table with a sympathetic smile. “Come on, Quinn, you can’t give up now.”
She got up and walked over to the kitchen pantry. “I know,” she said as she dug through the shelves for a granola bar. “It’s just frustrating.” Unwrapping the bar, she went to sit at the table. “I mean, we have been taught our entire lives to be good, to care about people, but then when I suggest we care about the innocent children of villains, everyone goes crazy.”
“We’ve also been taught that we are the good guys and they are the bad guys,” Mark said, closing his laptop. “And that they deserve what they get.”
Quinn nodded as she munched on the granola bar.
“We just need to find a way to show everyone that the kids on the Isle aren’t so different than the kids here. That being a villain or a hero is a choice, not genetics or whatever,” Mark said.
She swallowed and looked at Mark. “I think I have an idea.”
“What?”
“Make them see that being a hero or a villain is a choice,” she said, eyes wide.
“Yeah...?”
Quinn grinned, full and wide, like she hadn’t in a while. “I’m living proof of that.”
“You want to come out as the child of a villain?” Mark said uncertainly.
“Yeah! How did I not think of this before?”
“Because it might have bad consequences,” Mark said. “They might hate you even more.”
“But,” Quinn said, excitedly. “It might show them that who your parents are doesn’t matter.”
Quinn told the rest of her idea over the group chat. Everyone was also growing discouraged and although they were not sure it would work as Quinn did, they were running out of ideas, so they all agreed it was the best way to move forward.
•••
The next day, Quinn stood inside the house, pacing back and forth. She could hear the reporters outside and knew Mark and Dad were watching her from where they sat at the kitchen table. The clock on the wall struck nine and she took a deep breath as she turned to the door.
“You’ve got this,” said Mark.
“Do you want us out there with you?” Dad asked.
Quinn smiled at them. “No, I need to do this by myself.”
“Alright, knock ‘em dead,” Dad said.
She squared her shoulders and stepped out the front door and was met with camera flashes and shouted questions. When she got to the ground, microphones were shoved in her face.
“What is your announcement, Miss Little?” many reporters asked.
Quinn looked around and then focused on the main news network’s camera. “As you all know, my team and I have been campaigning for the care and rights of the children of villains. I would like to point out that despite my many statements to the king and queen, I have had absolutely no response from the throne.” She looked at the camera for a moment, hoping that the king was watching. “So, Your Majesty, I ask again, are you satisfied with the children of villains – your subjects – living the punishments of their parents’ crimes of which they are innocent?” She took another pause and got ready for the thing that she knew would make or break the campaign. “So today I would like to make an announcement.” She took a breath. “I am the child of a villain.”
There was a moment of complete silence in the crowd of reporters and then she was bombarded with questions.
“I do not say this to call attention to myself,” Quinn insisted quickly, speaking over the reporters. “I am putting this out in the open so that I can show the country that being a villain or being a hero is a choice. People are not good or evil because of their parents, they are good or evil through the choices that they themselves make.”
More questions came from the reporters:
“Which villain?”
“When did Little John adopt you?”
“Is this why you started your campaign?”
The reporters started to crowd her and Quinn could feel her fight or flight reflexes start to kick in. She took a breath and smiled at the reporters. “I thank you for your time, um, that’s all I have to say for today.” She scrambled up and into the house as quickly as she could.
••
Jax had about had enough of Auradonian news. Every mention of Quinn was accompanied by vague gestures at her upbringing and handwringing about culture.
So when she told the country about her parentage, he was not surprised about the fallout. They dissected her school record and social media, looking for ‘clues’ about her heritage that they had missed. They interviewed her classmates, most of whom seemed very eager to talk about how odd she had been – her and the Sherwood kids.
The most daring commentators were beginning to question the goodness of the Merry Men. After giving one interview, Robin Hood seemed to catch wind of their intentions to smear him and gave no more statements. Little John had avoided the press from the beginning, but they hounded both him and Quinn until several outbursts from him were painted as “violent” and “coarse” in the press.
A headline: “Woman calls guards on Quinn Little, claimed she ‘felt threatened’ by presence”
A picture: Quinn, eyes tired and mouth pinched tight, tries to avoid cameras as she heads back to Sherwood after a protest at the royal palace. There is a prominent bruise on her arm where a guard grabbed her.
Watching the news began to take more and more of Jax’s time. He did not want to tell anybody else about how badly the campaign was going. Part of the reason they helped Quinn was the promise she would help them get away from their parents.
Jade would often find him late at night, slumped on the couch in front of the TV, face worried even in sleep.
“You know obsessing over Quinn’s campaign won’t help her,” she said one morning.
Jax rubbed her eyes and yawned. “I know, but there’s not much else I can do.”
“Jax.” Jade sat across from him. “She’s out there fighting for us, so you need to fight too. For the Crew and everyone else. We can make life better here while she’s working to make it even better for the future.”
He smiled softly. “You’re right, Jade, as always.” He sighed and looked over at the tv, muted by Jade. Yet another tv commentator yammered on as footage of Quinn yelling into a megaphone in front of the palace played. “We’ll do our part while she does hers. We gotta prepare everyone for Auradon.”
Routine set in – a depressing routine that seemed to accomplish nothing. She signed up for audiences with the king and queen every Monday – which were always refused. So, they would demonstrate in front of the palace on Tuesday or Wednesday. If the demonstrators were deemed ‘too loud’ or ‘provoking un-goodness,’ she and a bunch of others may spend the night in a cell. Then they would have a meeting at Chloe’s apartment to discuss progress.
And sometimes there was actual progress: a few new people had joined from outside the Underground and Sherwood, or reports of smaller demonstrations in other regions in Auradon. Once, Prince Aladdin and Princess Jasmine, the leaders of the Lone Keep region, had issued a statement saying that although they did not fully agree with Think of the Children’s message, they acknowledged that people could change. After all, Aladdin, a former thief, was proof of that.
But most of the time, they would leave the meeting less heartened than they had upon entering it.
On the weekends, Quinn would pore over the footage from the Isle crime reports on tv, trying to piece together what was going on over there. She would smile when she saw a familiar face on the grainy footage – even if it was just Fabienne Facilier or Josephine from the Queens. She knew the Crew had disabled the cameras around the docks ages ago – which she had been grateful for in her time there, but now lamented – so she had to rely on the downtown cameras to catch a glimpse of them. And she rarely did.
•••
When she was in Sherwood, Quinn had taken to sitting on the roof of their house to think at night, since it was the closest thing to the Jolly Roger’s crow’s nest. She hugged her knees and looked up at the stars she could see through the leaves of the trees above her. Although she spent her last month or so on the Isle sleeping alone, she missed Jax beside her.
She heard the roof creak slightly and saw Dad climbing up to sit beside her. “I see you haven’t lost your climbing skills,” he said.
Quinn smiled. “I was able to keep them up on the Jolly Roger’s ratlines, as well as the buildings of the city.”
“And how do ships and cities compare to trees?” he asked.
She thought about it for a moment. “The Isle had hardly any green, which I missed. A lot. But the seaside breezes were nice. And there’s nothing quite like a thunderstorm while onboard a ship.”
They sat in silence for a minute or so. “I had a boyfriend over there,” she said finally. She was not sure why she had not told him yet. She and Dad had always been able to talk about everything, including romance. He was the first person she told that she had kissed Winston Scarlett and didn’t want to be with him but didn’t want to tell him because no story she learned about at school had a princess tell a prince that. And he had told her to tell him anyway because those princesses had lived in a very different time.
He looked over at her and said nothing, prompting her to continue.
“His name is Jax, Captain Hook’s son. He was one of the first people I met on the Isle and he helped me even though I told him who my father was.” Dad listened patiently as it all spilled out: the training, the kiss in the alleyway, flings on the Isle, all the way to Seamus’ blackmail, how he supported her through the outbreak of whooping cough and finally helping her to come back. “I love him, Dad.”
He just nodded and enfolded her in a hug. “He must be a very special guy.”
Quinn nodded. “I miss him.”
“Then you have another thing to fight for,” he said. “And I’m sure he’s fighting just as hard to get back to you.”
Her conversation was much less serious and much more, well, Mark-like.
“Are you telling me you lost your v-card to a pirate on a pirate ship?”
“Oh, I regret telling you already.”
They were sparring with quarterstaffs behind his parents’ house.
“Little baby Quinn –”
“Shut up,” she said, but she was laughing.
“– sleeping with – what was his name again?”
“Jax.”
“Please tell me it’s spelled with an X.”
“It is.”
“Wonderfully scandalous.”
Quinn thwacked his leg with her quarterstaff while he was distracted.
Things continued to go badly for the campaign, and Quinn decided to stay a bit longer in Sherwood. One evening, after racking her brain, she tossed her notebook onto the coffee table in frustration. She sighed. “They just don’t care.” She ran her hands through her hair. “And I don’t know how to make them care.”
Mark looked over from where he sat at the kitchen table with a sympathetic smile. “Come on, Quinn, you can’t give up now.”
She got up and walked over to the kitchen pantry. “I know,” she said as she dug through the shelves for a granola bar. “It’s just frustrating.” Unwrapping the bar, she went to sit at the table. “I mean, we have been taught our entire lives to be good, to care about people, but then when I suggest we care about the innocent children of villains, everyone goes crazy.”
“We’ve also been taught that we are the good guys and they are the bad guys,” Mark said, closing his laptop. “And that they deserve what they get.”
Quinn nodded as she munched on the granola bar.
“We just need to find a way to show everyone that the kids on the Isle aren’t so different than the kids here. That being a villain or a hero is a choice, not genetics or whatever,” Mark said.
She swallowed and looked at Mark. “I think I have an idea.”
“What?”
“Make them see that being a hero or a villain is a choice,” she said, eyes wide.
“Yeah...?”
Quinn grinned, full and wide, like she hadn’t in a while. “I’m living proof of that.”
“You want to come out as the child of a villain?” Mark said uncertainly.
“Yeah! How did I not think of this before?”
“Because it might have bad consequences,” Mark said. “They might hate you even more.”
“But,” Quinn said, excitedly. “It might show them that who your parents are doesn’t matter.”
Quinn told the rest of her idea over the group chat. Everyone was also growing discouraged and although they were not sure it would work as Quinn did, they were running out of ideas, so they all agreed it was the best way to move forward.
•••
The next day, Quinn stood inside the house, pacing back and forth. She could hear the reporters outside and knew Mark and Dad were watching her from where they sat at the kitchen table. The clock on the wall struck nine and she took a deep breath as she turned to the door.
“You’ve got this,” said Mark.
“Do you want us out there with you?” Dad asked.
Quinn smiled at them. “No, I need to do this by myself.”
“Alright, knock ‘em dead,” Dad said.
She squared her shoulders and stepped out the front door and was met with camera flashes and shouted questions. When she got to the ground, microphones were shoved in her face.
“What is your announcement, Miss Little?” many reporters asked.
Quinn looked around and then focused on the main news network’s camera. “As you all know, my team and I have been campaigning for the care and rights of the children of villains. I would like to point out that despite my many statements to the king and queen, I have had absolutely no response from the throne.” She looked at the camera for a moment, hoping that the king was watching. “So, Your Majesty, I ask again, are you satisfied with the children of villains – your subjects – living the punishments of their parents’ crimes of which they are innocent?” She took another pause and got ready for the thing that she knew would make or break the campaign. “So today I would like to make an announcement.” She took a breath. “I am the child of a villain.”
There was a moment of complete silence in the crowd of reporters and then she was bombarded with questions.
“I do not say this to call attention to myself,” Quinn insisted quickly, speaking over the reporters. “I am putting this out in the open so that I can show the country that being a villain or being a hero is a choice. People are not good or evil because of their parents, they are good or evil through the choices that they themselves make.”
More questions came from the reporters:
“Which villain?”
“When did Little John adopt you?”
“Is this why you started your campaign?”
The reporters started to crowd her and Quinn could feel her fight or flight reflexes start to kick in. She took a breath and smiled at the reporters. “I thank you for your time, um, that’s all I have to say for today.” She scrambled up and into the house as quickly as she could.
••
Jax had about had enough of Auradonian news. Every mention of Quinn was accompanied by vague gestures at her upbringing and handwringing about culture.
So when she told the country about her parentage, he was not surprised about the fallout. They dissected her school record and social media, looking for ‘clues’ about her heritage that they had missed. They interviewed her classmates, most of whom seemed very eager to talk about how odd she had been – her and the Sherwood kids.
The most daring commentators were beginning to question the goodness of the Merry Men. After giving one interview, Robin Hood seemed to catch wind of their intentions to smear him and gave no more statements. Little John had avoided the press from the beginning, but they hounded both him and Quinn until several outbursts from him were painted as “violent” and “coarse” in the press.
A headline: “Woman calls guards on Quinn Little, claimed she ‘felt threatened’ by presence”
A picture: Quinn, eyes tired and mouth pinched tight, tries to avoid cameras as she heads back to Sherwood after a protest at the royal palace. There is a prominent bruise on her arm where a guard grabbed her.
Watching the news began to take more and more of Jax’s time. He did not want to tell anybody else about how badly the campaign was going. Part of the reason they helped Quinn was the promise she would help them get away from their parents.
Jade would often find him late at night, slumped on the couch in front of the TV, face worried even in sleep.
“You know obsessing over Quinn’s campaign won’t help her,” she said one morning.
Jax rubbed her eyes and yawned. “I know, but there’s not much else I can do.”
“Jax.” Jade sat across from him. “She’s out there fighting for us, so you need to fight too. For the Crew and everyone else. We can make life better here while she’s working to make it even better for the future.”
He smiled softly. “You’re right, Jade, as always.” He sighed and looked over at the tv, muted by Jade. Yet another tv commentator yammered on as footage of Quinn yelling into a megaphone in front of the palace played. “We’ll do our part while she does hers. We gotta prepare everyone for Auradon.”
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