Quintin Hobart Part 4

BOOM. Third person. Quint acknowledged the side and back of the head of the woman with longer, more advanced hair than Sandra's no-more than shoulder length hair, well actually it was longer than shoulder-length now what with all the shrugging. This woman was wearing some sort of light bluish clothing.

And that as she was walking away from him yesterday, he just remembered that he thought he heard her mumble "Crunchy" to herself, as if she was bobbing her own head.

The second woman literally spoke out the word "Yawn" and yawned.

Mr. On began some sort of introduction. "Sandra Swanson, and Quintin Hobart…"
—"No more details now please, that can… wait wunce we get there. I HOPE THIS car ride is long, must sleep", the newer woman managed to yammer out.

Sandra wasn't shrugging her shoulders way up anymore. "Mr. Hobart, our… boss is pushing for bottlers and packagers to manage to use less plastic and that sort of thing in their packaging…"

They silently acknowledged the car starting up—
"When we get to his mansion-sized house, it's going to be like a fair, no, like a convention!"she mused, but didn't exclaim excitedly by really raising her voice any. Her voice wasn't girly like when she nodded her head and said, "Mr. Hobart". 'Twas now a mature woman's voice. "Mr. On is involved in so many things…" humbled Sandra.

Quintin wanted to ask what this was all about, but first he looked out the car window to see where they were going. He agreed with his urge to unbuckle his seat belt and turn around all the way and saw that they were just past a market district that Quint himself never went past. Sandra was initially speechless, then said, "Well, we are almost there." Quintin thought she may have been exaggerating at least somewhat, but then Quint felt that last-stretch-of-road gut feeling, and within a minute, they hit gravel. Gravel? Like that kind of gravel?

Ya, there was a wrought-iron fence and everything, but the house wasn't very mansiony from what he could tell. As it was coming up, it was completely unlit, but he could tell it was a very boxy shape, like an apartment complex. And then it lit up.

It was, among many other things, a pearl cut into the shape of a rectangular prism. It was so welcoming since the darkness as early as 5p.m. at this time of year was even really getting to Quintin. In that type of dark, almost any building looked haunted. And they probably were.

Mr. On spoke. "Something before we get-out…"
"Yes, Derik-kun?" whisper-talked Sandra Swanson as clearly as possible.
Did she just use a Japanese honorific?
"That's good. No louder than that as I…(he reached over the woman's sleeping body to unbuckle the seat belt) carry Jessie…" The last two(two syllable) words were used with the exact same higher-pitched inflection, like  that tone when someone says the 'ready…' in the common reciting of the phrase 'Ready, set go!' Both words had the 'Ready…' tone.

Jessie was officially dressed in a silky teal blouse and thin black pants, like the Westernized casual outfit of a younger Indian-American woman, but otherwise looked like a Celtic Raven combined with the deepest, most burgundy, rarest, of the marauder's cloaked, or robed, field mice. No, a mouse wouldn't have that color fur, if there was a creature that had very dark red fur, hair, feathers, or scales, it would resemble her hair color, but it wasn't scaly. This was a fresh break from all the romanticism people have about jet-jet- black-haired people, who usually have to dye it a bit darker anyway…(excluding specific heredities of the Japanese, African, and Indian

He could tell even with them being closed, from the line of closed lid and eyelash, that her eyes were long, not just big. Usually, when people draw closed eyes in a cartoon, they just draw a line, the eyelashes line. Maybe it curves a bit,  but there's no indication that there are spherical eyeballs bulging from behind it. No raised relief lines from the side and curving to the top. That's what she was like. So fine-tuned like a selkie or siren-type creature, it was anatomically incorrect. A beautiful mutant. Meautiful. Meautantful. A beautant.

But seriously, it was probably just the lighting that made it hard to see the details of her closed eyes. Her eyeballs most likely weren't that far back into her head. It was dark outside. Her face was a sort of acorn-shape and her nose was slight, but not tiny, not 'like(or as) a button.'

Any other details of this woman's facial features... Oh. They were already there. They had walked from the motorcar to the front door already. A quick glance back from Quint indicated that Sandra was also giving some studying glances at Jessie. Sandra's nose was turned up like a curious li'l mouse and she seemed like she was on her tiptoes with her looking.