milliways_bar | Entries tagged with creedy

twoeyesonthesky.livejournal.com

It's been months since Quinn's seen the door to the Bar, which is a pity. He'd been hoping to fill the Autobot leader in about the new children's drawings in the-

er-

-castle, yes, but all of a sudden he could feel air on his chin, and his clothes were all-

"What the hell?" a much younger Quinn-looking man wonders aloud, patting his oddly rough-woven and decidedly old-school tunic down with both hands. When he finds a pouch at his belt, he undoes the knots that hold it shut and pulls out a small card.

"'Congratulations!'," he reads off. "'Tonight for Halloween you are Amlad, the Prince of Jutland'- what the hell?"

one-eyetothesky.livejournal.com

"WHERE ARE MY BLOODY TROUSERS?!"

twoeyesonthesky.livejournal.com

[OOM: Some days start off better than others. And some days... well... some days really, really don't.]

The door opens on a chill grey day in England; the man who walks through could not possibly look less like someone of a society capable of producing the blaster riffle in his hands if he tried. At the sight of the Bar he staggers, nearly losing his footing for a moment. "Christ Almighty," he says. "This place again..."

He puts a hand on the nearest chair to steady himself.

"Bar?" Quinn says, not quite willing to look up just yet. "We've got Americans."

twoeyesonthesky.livejournal.com

[OOM: After Eddie's rescue, such as it is, life goes on at the castle.

There's still a long damn road ahead, no matter how much difference the Bar's ever made.]

twoeyesonthesky.livejournal.com

[OOM: Quinn and Creedy leave Milliways for the world they know all too well, and the human race loses that much more ground.]

twoeyesonthesky.livejournal.com

Quinn comes down the stairs, thinking-

Well, we'll never know what he's thinking. He's just seen the puppet swarm.

"CREEDY!" he bellows. "Get your arse in here right now! We're going home!"

Rescuing Eddie from that dragon cannot be worse than this.

twoeyesonthesky.livejournal.com

Quinn figures he and Creedy will be going home soon enough, so for now he's making the best use of the time he can. He's got coffee, he's got one of the apples he can't get anywhere but here yet, and he's got his sign up:

Collecting songs and stories to bring back to a world where civilisation fell

Got anything interesting you'd like people to hear?

He's going over the notes from yesterday's stories to be on the safe side, but he'd rather have new ones to work with.

one-eyetothesky.livejournal.com

Creedy walks into the bar.

Creedy... blinks.

Creedy looks down.

"Guinness. Four. And keep 'em coming, please."

twoeyesonthesky.livejournal.com

[OOM: Quinn came to Milliways pre-canon. Sooner or later, though, canon comes to find you...]

The door flies open, revealing a scene of fire. Light, heat, smoke, the awful smell of all manner of things burning-

And one human figure, clad in rippling, unnatural material- silvery, heat-resistant stuff. Save for the front of the headpiece, of course. That's smoked (ha!) glass or plastic. Not that it's there long to be seen. It gets ripped off and Quinn Abercromby stares around him, expression shocked.

"FUCK!" he suddenly shouts. "CREEDY!"

twoeyesonthesky.livejournal.com

He's put as much in his pack as he can possibly carry, and he's rigged a travois with some supporting wheels to haul whatever else Creedy can't carry. He'll go tonight if they can and tomorrow if they can't. For now, Quinn's got what he figures is probably going to be his last really decent dinner for a very long time.

fiveroundsrapid.livejournal.com

"Oh, for the love of-"

The other side of the door smells distinctly of damp and mucky, at least until the door closes behind a scowling Brigadier. "Right, that's it," he snaps. "That report's getting filed early. This is not the cave complex!"

twoeyesonthesky.livejournal.com

There's really not much to hold Quinn in the Bar any more; he's done the supply-buying as best he could from Bar, after all. It's not like he's got vehicles to haul stuff with this time, or even a horse. It's what he can carry and then some. The rest can turn up when Creedy goes to the Bar next, and he can take it back.

No reason to stay. People need him at home.

And yet, and yet... well, for all that he's got a mug of coffee held in both hands, he doesn't appear to be paying much attention to it at all. That's something new. He's just... there, really, at his seat with his back to the Window.

trurabblerouser.livejournal.com

Creedy is out back, enjoying the cool fall breeze, the soon-to-be-gone green of the grass and the waving of the trees. A black cat has curled up near his feet, though there's no telling whose she is as her master isn't about and doesn't seem to be outside. He doesn't mind much, though. The cat gets scritched every so often in between bites of breakfast and he'll be happy for an interruption.

Cooper is inside at the bar having a drink. Of tea. And a good cold breakfast. He's not really the talkative type, but you're welcome to try.

Matt is in one of the booths, still working on a letter. He can't seem to get the wording quite right, or fit his meaning to a single page and it's driving him a little up the wall. For a man who used words so powerfully, he's beginning to wonder if this IS hell if only for the writer's block.

~~[ooc: mun has to attend meeting; back in an hour or so]~~ BACK!

twoeyesonthesky.livejournal.com

[OOM: World Without Magic, Albeit Greatly Delayed. Millitimed to back in July, when we started the blasted thing- with my sincerest apologies.

Quinn, Creedy, Naraht, Veronica Mars, and Dooku head off to Quinn and Creedy's world with the supplies and tools Quinn's acquired at Milliways. Mind you, Dooku wasn't planning on the trip, so you can imagine his surprise. Especially when the Force fails to function. There's a ruined hotel, an escape tunnel to be dug, and a near-miss with a dragon before the greatest trial of them all: a castle full of suspicious English. . .

Later in the day, after much work and many handwaved meetings, Veronica, Quinn and Creedy head for supper. There's discussion, and other things. And finally night falls.

You have my sincerest apologies for how long this took to get through. It won't happen again.]

curlys-boy.livejournal.com

((OOM: Conversations with the goats. Kyle needs to do silly things too sometimes.))

Kyle entered the bar, bleating followed him as five leashed goats crowded behind him to get the carrots in his free hand. The littler ones were butting against each other. He would look very farmeresque if not for the fact that he's wearing Prada and Gucci. He's looking for a sign of Quinn or maybe even somewhere to tether the goats so that he can start making the trip with the rabbits.

Anyone want to direct the poor soul, go right ahead.

twoeyesonthesky.livejournal.com

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.

one-eyetothesky.livejournal.com

...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.

one-eyetothesky.livejournal.com

He wanders in from the outside. He's gotten over finding the whole thing entirely astounding and has simply settled upon finding the green grass and the trees and the lake and the rest of it as just entirely enjoyable. He's got a beer in one hand and a rough sack of peanuts in the other which has obviously been nipped at some and heads for some dinner.

twoeyesonthesky.livejournal.com

Normally it takes alcohol, or at the very least some form of recreational chemistry, to produce the sort of expression Quinn had when he woke up this morning. It's almost a pity there were no cameras or witnesses on hand. Going from the relatively tranquil face of sleep, to the vaguely confused look of anyone who's come to wakefulness in a strange place, to full-blown 'I did what? I said what?' rarely works out as flawlessly as it did this morning.

He's composed himself pretty well, though- working hard in the dawn hours, then getting to clean up in an actual working shower, will do that. Now he's just got breakfast to get through, although the words An agreement- two years after the dragons are gone periodically surface in his head and cause the odd expression to flicker over his face.

Mind, if you're not a telepath, an empath, or an extremely perceptive gambler, it could just look like he's got a dodgy bowl of oatmeal.

one-eyetothesky.livejournal.com

He wanders in, a faint smile on his face as he closes the door behind him. The smell of grass is in his nose, cold and sweet and green and he doesn't think he'll ever get sick of that smell, of that color, no matter how much he sees it. His hands are a bit clammy and some of his hair's a little wet since he'd spent a little time enjoying the edge of the lake as well, but he'll dry out soon enough and there's no harm to it.

That being said, he's a bit hungry and so he makes his way to the bar. Quinn'd told him of the coins, so he pays no mind to the cost; it's easy enough for a man who's no longer used to money. As far as he's concerned, the steak is hot and fresh and cooked just right and the beer's never tasted better and the thought of a hot apple crumble to finish the lot of it off is almost as good as he figures it'll taste after all the rest.

Translation: Life isn't so bad.

one-eyetothesky.livejournal.com

"--out me, all right? I'll be right back. Just going to--"

Interrupted words for a man interrupted in time and space, plucked out like a daisy in the garden of life (though he'd more than likely cuff you one if you called him a daisy, so best to keep that to yourself). That being said, Creedy certainly wasn't expecting to find a drinking establishment, well... anywhere being as the only alcohol in the castle came from his own tub, and especially not at the latrine.

For one, it wasn't exactly sanitary.

For another, it's a pub. At the latrine.

He holds up a hand, as if to scold someone or other for... something. What. Something. Then he spins around because whoever it was wasn't in front of him, so perhaps they were behind him. No.

Aha.

So...

"QUINN!"