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 ( Read more... )

"WHERE ARE MY BLOODY TROUSERS?!"

[OOM: Some days start off better than others. And some days... well... some days really, really don'tThe 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 ( Read more... )

[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.]

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

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.

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 ( Read more... )

Creedy walks into the bar.

Creedy... blinks.

Creedy looks down.

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

[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 ( Read more... )

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.