Although his current living style may suggest otherwise, Quincy was raised in wealth in the center of old Louisiana. He was seen as a dissapointment to his father because of his failing health and seeming mental instability. However, it was his interest in death that was most off-putting to others. It's not that he liked to watch things die, but the process of a being dying, of the systems shutting down and the light leaving its eyes, was too fascinating to turn away from. Even more so when it was his own life fading.

Late winter. The sound of wood shattering. A numb feeling. Something is wet. Someone is speaking in a language not understood.

And with a resolute "Yes," Quincy was left without family or age.

You would think selling your soul to a demon would be more memorable, but most of that night is only a blur. It was only long after that Quincy learned the details of the accident that should have claimed his life along with those of his father and three sisters. A carriage wreck down a long, rolling slope while traveling out of state. But now he was stuck with Dopple, Quincy's name for the demon now residing within him and his shadow, and the terms of his contract unknown to him.

If there were any time to pick up occult practices, that would have certainly been the opportune time. Quincy moved away from the Quarter and into the Louisiana swamps, bringing his family's fortune with him. His new home was much smaller than his family's estate, which he didn't mind. Now he lives alone, with the exception of the various creatures that come to dorm occasionally, Tuffet (a strange little flower imp), and Dopple (who always lingers in his shadow).