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From young, Quincy’s dad was violent and short tempered. Coming home drunk after gambling, he would lash out randomly, demanding to be served like a king. Quincy’s mother was constantly the punching bag for her father’s frustration. Her mother was never seen uninjured, often fortunate to get away with a bruised lip or shallow cuts. Quincy wasn’t even supposed to be the first child. The first…well the first didn’t even make it out of the womb, Quincy’s mother having been kicked in the stomach while with child, her father frustrated over a loss of money. He often went to pleasure houses, and watched….suggestive material. Which of course, led to him taking advantage of Quincy and her mother, saying it was “a favor they owed him”.

Thankfully enough, her father soon passed due to unpaid debts to a particularly vicious gang, leading to his death. Quincy and her mother were safe. However, Quincy’s mother was determined to protect Quincy…perhaps too much so. Now afraid of men in the real world, Quincy was strictly forbidden to leave the house, being repeatedly told that the outside world was full of dangers, that everyone out there meant her harm. Quincy couldn’t really stand being at home, being restless. And so, Quincy’s mother, for her “own good”, slipped pills into Quincy’s food. Pills she shouldn’t be taking, for a healthy girl such as herself. Her desserts and sweet drinks were also often mixed with a little mad honey, keeping Quincy sick enough and bedridden, requiring her beloved mother’s care 24/7. Quincy’s mother soon died due to depression, committing suicide and overdosing on pills.