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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"That doesn't sound good," Quinn murmurs.

Apparently, British understatement survived the dragons and is alive and well at Alnwick castle.

"It isn't. Everybody's blaming everybody else, and the IF...the government that was fighting the war...has effectively collapsed."

That gets a wince, sharper this time, and after a moment an offer of "Can I get you a drink? You sound like it might not go amiss."

Bonzo nods. Amazingly, courtesy of a number of factors (a cut drinking age in Europe that is effectively not enforced), he won't be violating any laws by having a drink despite only being 16-ish.

"A Correlian Ale?"

And no, that is not a joke.

Blink. Blink.

"They've got that here?"

"They've got anything you want here...within a few limits."

Pause.

"You know how Alderaan got blown up in Star Wars?"

Quinn suddenly smiles.

"I've been playing Darth Vader on stage in front of my castle's children for years now," he says. "Yeah, I know about that bit."

Bonzo grins.

"They have Alderaanian wine...Dooku has it regularly with his meals."

"Huh." Quinn considers this. "I don't believe I've had wine in.... ever, actually. No grapes left."

Another grin appears. "Well, this isn't a bad place to try it."

"I'll remember that next time dinner rolls around," Quinn promises. "Sounds like it'd be worthwhile..."

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