milliways_bar | (no subject)

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It may be some time before Quinn gets up the nerve to walk outside again, no matter how appealing the green landscape is. At least he's starting to think he knows why. He's not going to be staying here much longer. Not if his world keeps grabbing him back and pulling other people with him. It's nearly time to go home.

Still, he could do with a proper dinner or two before he has everything together, so he makes his way down to the Bar and finds a convenient booth. It'll do as well as anywhere else, really.

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"S'the universes way of letting people know how bloody lucky they are," he says with another sip. "And maybe a few people buying us drinks."

"I could do with that," Quinn says. "At least the one time it happened with someone who hadn't magic to begin with, we found a bottle of whisky that never got boiled- that was something."

He points with one finger on the hand holding the beer.

"Sounds like proof to me. And helpful either way."

The other hand moves to scratch at his ear.

"Wonder why it hasn't brought me in?"

"Bugger if I know," says Quinn. "Bet you pay more attention to what you're doing. Half the time I'm out there, my mind's someplace else entirely- if I'm not with the horse, anyways."

"Not really," he admits. "Half the time I'm thinking on this place here and the other half I'm thinking of home, if you catch my meaning."

"Mmm." Quinn glances down at his drink, considering. "This place must be itching to get me out, then. That or the world likes me better than you."

"Or the place can't part from me cause of my rugged good looks."

Sip.

It may be a measure of Quinn's overall mental state that he simply hasn't got an answer for that beyond "Might want to notify Bernard about that, then."

He raises his beer and takes a long sip in answer.

Quinn sighs. "I think it's almost time for me to go home," he says. "As soon as I've put the last purchases through, anyways. It can't pull me back by surprise if I go on purpose, eh?"

He nods.

"Hope you're aware I'm coming with you and all, considering."

"You'd better, pretty boy," says Quinn. "I'm not unloading all of that stuff myself. Or playing child-minder, either- we've got volunteers."

He... nods.

He doesn't winces, because people willing to help are always good. But he does know that volunteers, if not properly watched, can be as much trouble as help.

"Aye, you've got me. It'll be good to head home after all."

Quinn catches the hesitation. "We're starting at the old hotel," he says. "you know, the one a couple miles down the road? It's still got some sound bits belowground. It's as good a spot as any for emergency reserves, and if we get an overflight, it's far enough that it won't point the beast back towards the castle."

It might sound a bit cold to an outsider listening, but it's the sort of consideration that becomes second nature over the years, really.

"Sounds good to me. We going to be carrying flares on the way just in case, I'm assuming?"

"Course we are," says Quinn. "Wouldn't dream of doing otherwise."

He's not going to mention Calrissian's offer of weapons until he's got an actual blaster in his hands.

"Just wasn't sure of what supplies we had of that type here.'

"We're well set on that front," Quinn says. "Believe me. Just this once, I know what I'm doing."

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