milliways_bar | (no subject)

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[OOM: There'll always be an England. It's just that eventually, it's REALLY going to suck.]

The door opens, and for a moment the ruddy-gold light of candles and lamps can be seen on the other side. Not for long, though. The blue-clad, bearded fellow who trudges through closes the door behind him.

And then stops, two paces in, and stares.

Quinn Abercromby hasn't got any words at all for this.

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"I probably should warn you as well that my twin brother, Melou, comes here too."

"All right," says Quinn. "Good to know. Where's 'here', exactly? 'Cos about three minutes ago I would've sworn that was the door to my bunk."

"Milliways, sir. The Bar at the end of the Universe. No violence in the bar, no sex and no business. And...I think the door just moves around. Sometimes it's Melou's bedroom, others the door from the courtyard..."

"The..."

Quinn blinks, and looks around again. It takes some time.

"I don't recognise anybody," he says in a hushed tone.

"No, it's...outside of your world." See, Mele is trying to be helpful.

And if Quinn were a little more educated in some things, he'd appreciate it more. As it stands, he just shakes his head in awe. "How?" he asks.

"Um. I don't know...exactly."

He shakes his head a little more, but it's plain that he didn't really expect an explanation. "This is... I haven't seen anything like this in years. There hasn't been a pub in England since I was... I don't even know."

"It..also covers lots of different times."

Quinn passes one hand over his face. "I suppose next," he says, "you're going to tell me that you're from Camelot back when it was new? Not the way it is now?"

"Well, technically sir it's not new - my grandfather built it."

Quinn smiles wearily. "I see," he says. "So you didn't take refuge there from the dragons, then?"

It's been a very long day for him. People start thinking strange things when they're low on sleep.

The frown is back.

"No dragons."

"Lucky you," says Quinn tiredly. "We've got 'em in spades by my day. Bastards destroyed everything."

"Can't you kill them?"

"Been working on it," says Quinn. "But the damn things breed like cockroaches, and they move nearly as fast. You've got to get a shot straight down their mouths if you're going to get past the armour plating, and they're too clever to get themselves flamed out while they're still on the ground."

It's a story he and the rest of his world know all too well.

"Catapults don't work? Like, using them to knock them out of the sky?"

Quinn shakes his head. "Tried that," he says. "They're fast enough to dodge, most of the time. Big, too- the head's as long as a man. I think they tried that in Ireland a while back, though."

[ooc: I need to go and have lunch...at 4pm. So, slowtime at all?]

"Do...do you have magic?" He asks, softly.

Quinn grimaces. "I wish," he says. "But no, we don't."

[OOC: Sounds good to me! Thank you!]

"Because, I bet that could work."

That gets a small smile. "Believe me," he says, "if we had a wizard, and he could actually do anything against the dragons, he'd shortly turn out to be the wealthiest man in England. Everyone would be throwing stuff his way to come and teach them what he knew."

Melehan smiles back.

"Well, I'm not a wizard. Otherwise? That sounds like fun."

"Well, if you happen to meet one who'd be willing to give it a go," Quinn says, "could you gimme his name? Just 'cos we've only put in the spring plantings today. I'd rather see the harvest not go all to ash."