milliways_bar | (no subject)

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...he's sitting in a corner reading a newspaper. Perhaps it's not the most exciting experience the world has ever known, but it's pretty damn lovely for a man who hasn't seen a new bit of print in some years. He's already read the "current events" for whatever world the previous occupant of the booth had been from and now he's on the funnies.

Damn. End of the universe and Dogbert's still a gas.

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He nods and points to the cartoon.

"The dog's hilarious."

Knox looks. "I don't know that strip. Or at least my paper doesn't carry it." Maybe it will someday, but not in December 1989. "Art's pretty rudimentary. What's it about?"

"Just life and people being silly. Simple stuff, but pleasant enough to read."

He hasn't picked up a newspaper that wasn't screaming about dragons (or still smoking along the edges) for quite some time.

"Not from my world, mind, but it was here in the booth so I picked it up."

"Well, as long as you read a newspaper, then I'm happy. You know how hard it is to get kids to read them these days.

"Um, these days being 1989 in my case. Alexander Knox, Gotham City." He extends his hand.

He gives Knox something of an eyebrow raise, since he doesn't really know anything of the sort, considering, before taking the man's hand.

"I go by Creedy. And--"

And his brain goes into overdrive.

This man's from Batman City.

"Originally from London, now in Northumberland."

"Something about that is familiar...would I have met anyone else from there in the Bar?" He's good with names, but not with places. His wrold tends to be Gotham and Not Gotham.

He nods.

"My friend's been here some time, making deals and getting us supplies."

He's a little distrustful, so he doesn't mention the name. If he had spoken to Quinn, he'll know who he's talking about.

It's almost come to Knox. But not quite.

"That could be a lot of people here. Wanna give me another clue?"

He rubs meaningfully at his chin.

He'll just have to hope that Quinn hasn't shaved in the day or so since they parted last.

It takes a few seconds, but Knox things he has it.

"Quinn?" Contrary to popular opinion, Knox is rather bright.

He nods.

"Aye. You'll excuse the cloak and dagger bit. I'm still getting used to all the people here."

Knox gets a bit more sober, and fast. "Yeah, I get that. He told me about your world." Which defintely creeps Knox out. "Though I can assure you, everyone here's on your side.

"Except maybe that weird dinosaur robot."

Blink.

He seems to do that a lot here.

"Dinosaur robot?"

"Yep. Calls himself Terrosaur, and can turn from a robot into a pterodactyl. Arrogant as a prizefighter, and you can't shut him up.

"I don't thnk he likes humans very much. So if you see him, don't trust him.

"But try to talk to him. He's kinda of funny." A pause.

"For a crazy robot with delusions of dinosaurhood."

"Crazy robot... delusions of..."

Now, when these two concepts were seperate,they might have been easily digestable. The two combined, however, is giving him a headache.

"Yeah, that's the Bar for you. Every time I think I have it figured out, it gets odder."

"You're telling me."

"Well, you do have to admit, I need to tell you since your version of Earth is probably in the upper third of the weird here.

"Maybe I should make a chart. Or have a contest, see who can be the weirdest."

He shakes his head.

"Don't think there's enough beer here for that, mate."

"I don't know. I've seen the Bar do some pretty wild stuff by itself. If there's a demand for beer, I think she'll meet it.

"Of course, I wouldn't want to cover the tab on that much booze." Knox fakes a wince.

"Haven't used money for years so think that answers things for me."

"Right. Hadn't thought of that.

"Then how do you pay your tab?" After all, credit cards are out.

"Quinn covers things. And any decent bar'll give you a tab anyway."

And he's not saying anything more because the man might have met Quinn, but who's to say what his ambitions were? Quinn always was something of a soft touch.

"Yeah, but they called in the tabs a few weeks ago. And I make it a point to never, ever let my tab run up. Learned that the hard way when I first learned you can run up tabs. The worst thing you can ever do if you run a bar is give a cub reporter the right to drink for a month without paying." Knox smiles, but is still embarrassed by this incident 15 years later.

"Anyway, it's been good meeting you, but I have some things I need to do." Things including trying to make heads or tails of the weirdness in and out of the bar.

He nods.

"I'll see you around for sure," he answers, friendly enough. "And trust me, I'm well aware. M'Da owned a pub before all that happened. I've seen your like."

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