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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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."

Cheerfully, because oddly enough he likes Quinn,

"Sure! Anyway, I'd best be off...but I'll keep an ear out for you."

Quinn nods. "All right," he says. "Thanks, eh? It was good talking to you."

It was good talking to just about any unfamiliar face, but the kid seemed decent enough. Even if he does ring all Quinn's Jared bells.

Pause,

"You too." And with that, the boy is off.

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