Don’t Call Them Ruth-Less: Tales of Wynston and Quinn

[bright_ephemera]

Speaking of Quinn/Wyn, I just had a thought. An evil, evil thought. What if Wynston had a dirty dream about Quinn? He's unable to look Quinn in the eye, let alone talk to him for a few days. This pleases Quinn to no end until someone (maybe the joiner Hazard?) tells Quinn why. Awkwardness ensues on a mission.

 

Just a thought. :3

 

For shame! The "Fan Service" sketch is as hot as these two are going to get for each other. That's the policy and I'm sticking to it.

[irishfino]

For shame! The "Fan Service" sketch is as hot as these two are going to get for each other. That's the policy and I'm sticking to it.

 

Come to the dark side... It's hilarous.

[bright_ephemera]

May, 29 ATC: Jealous

 

 

 

Quinn stumbled out of the apartment complex looking more than a little miserable. He had stopped along the way to straighten out his clothes and hair, so at least he was presentable when he reported back to the safe house.

 

"I got the data," he said. "In addition to the names of two kingpins associated with this particular slaving ring, data on the leisure activities and financial weak points of nearly a dozen of its members, notes on a truly intriguing way to exploit a security weakness in some casinos, and sufficient blackmail information on our mark back there to keep her in our pockets for all time without my having to go back in there."

 

"The assignment was just this one file, Quinn. The rest is...impressive, bordering on unnecessary."

 

"I swept up all the data I could." Quinn gestured in the general direction of the apartments. "If I have to endure that, I'm going to make the most of it."

 

"'Endure.'"

 

Quinn leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

 

"I'm half inclined to leave you at home on these ops," said the Chiss.

 

"You need me when it gets difficult, agent. No one else in the organization can pick up this reliably, and no one else is as effective when things go wrong and you need to concoct new strategies in the field." He shook his head. "Believe me, if I could hand off the personal work to you with any assurance that it would get done, I would."

 

Both men sulked for a couple of minutes.

 

Then Quinn spoke up. "They never used to gravitate to me like this. You know, before."

 

"Before, you were standing beside the most dangerous woman in the galaxy. And she had a possessive air about her."

 

"Hardly. She was almost unnaturally insistent on letting me do as I wished."

 

"Possessive air. Believe me."

 

"It can't just be that. I spent decades as a bachelor not getting this much unwanted attention."

 

"Do I need to list your Pretty Young Officers' Club membership roll again?"

 

"They don't count. I could order any of them to stop at any time. And did, rather often. But that doesn't work on civilians."

 

"Yes, well, remind me to feel sorry for you at some point."

 

Quinn tilted his head and looked thoughtful, bordering on smug. "On the other hand, I do derive some satisfaction from the fact that I don't even have to try to make you jealous of me."

 

"I'm not jealous."

 

"You are. And you always were."

 

"No, no, I wasn't jealous until you started this insane irresistible lady-collection field. Which I'm still not jealous of."

 

"You were always jealous about Ruth."

 

"That's ridiculous, Quinn."

 

"You had very strong feelings on my seeing her."

 

"Well, yes, but that's because you're a contemptible weasel and I wouldn't wish you on any woman, much less one I liked. It didn't mean I was jealous."

 

"In fact, you were actively seething every time you saw me with her."

 

"Because I hate you and don't want you to have nice things! She had nothing to do with it!"

 

"And you would've seduced her the second I turned my back if you could."

 

"Well, yes, but that's entirely separate. I wanted her away from you, and I wouldn't have said no to her as such, but that doesn't mean I was jealous."

 

"Keep telling yourself that, agent. If that's the level of obliviousness you insist on cultivating, your staggering failures in social situations stand half explained." Quinn smiled very slightly. "The other half I must attribute to your natural talent."

 

Wynston, desperate for some counterattack, frowned and shook his head. "I just cannot wrap my head around how these marks keep falling for you. Looking at you, there's no rational explanation. And that you follow through without tripping disaster? It boggles the mind. I'm trying to imagine enjoying having sex with you, and it just...it just..."

 

Quinn's glare could have vaporized durasteel.

 

"I just remembered I have somewhere else to be," muttered Wynston.

 

"Yes," Quinn said coldly. "Yes, you really do."

 

 

 

 

Notes:

 

irishfino, that's for you.

 

Okay, I really need to give Wynston nice things at some point in the not too distant future. He really is awesome, he's just...a little off balance socially since Arbitrary Silly Effects Vortex walked in.

 

[kabeone]

May, 29 ATC: Jealous

 

 

I'm trying to imagine enjoying having sex with you, and it just...it just..."

 

Quinn's glare could have vaporized durasteel.

 

"I just remembered I have somewhere else to be," muttered Wynston.

 

"Yes," Quinn said coldly. "Yes, you really do."

 

 

 

 

haa hahahaha. eeee. Poor Wynston, I hate it when Quinn wins but, this is just too priceless.

[bright_ephemera]

May, 29 ATC: Glories of the Empire

 

 

 

Quinn caught up with Wynston in the hallway. "Agent. Have you considered my proposal?"

 

"We're not turning this agency into a 'total victory for the Empire' machine."

 

"It'd establish peace quickly enough."

 

"We ran the cost-benefit. Not going to happen. We're preserving the balance of the great powers more or less as is."

 

"That is to say, you don't have the means or the ingenuity to bring it to a decisive conclusion."

 

"No, I don't have the coldblooded willingness to sacrifice trillions to bring it to a decisive conclusion. We're going to steer the war towards a cease-fire, not total victory for one side."

 

"You read my proposal. One point three trillion is completely acceptable for bringing order to the galaxy. No strategist the officers' Academy has produced in the last fifty years could make a more elegant, less expensive plan."

 

"We're guiding the galaxy to minimal bloodshed, Quinn. It's what Ruth would've wanted."

 

Quinn wavered, very briefly, then settled on a scowl. "Ruth would have wanted a puppy for every sad child, but I don't see you campaigning for that."

 

"We're not going to sweep the Empire into crushing victory. That's final."

 

"If you're not going to pay attention to my strategic genius, I don't see why I should stay here."

 

"You realize I like knowing that there are places in the galaxy where aliens aren't treated like dirt?"

 

"That's because you're unfairly biased and also have a limited, alien brain. I've chosen not to hold it against you because you're useful."

 

"You hold my imaginary faults against me all the time, you pretentious prat. It's people like you who make me wonder why I supported the Empire for so long."

 

Quinn sneered, then spotted Hazard walking by. "Excuse me. Hazard. You consider the Empire a worthy place, right?"

 

"No," said the Twi'lek Joiner. "They treat aliens like dirt, and all their top-level strategists think that the sacrifice of trillions is a worthwhile cost to get what they want."

 

"You people are so short-sighted," Quinn said resentfully.

 

"You could just go back to working for the Empire yourself, Quinn," suggested Wynston.

 

"You can't be serious. Working directly under them again? They treat Force-blinds like dirt, and the sacrifice of perfectly good officers' careers is considered a worthwhile cost to...why are you looking at me like that?"

 

Hazard spoke into the awkward silence. "Wynston, we had a job come up."

 

"Great," growled the Chiss. "I could use a change of subject."

 

 

 

Edited August 20, 2012 by bright_ephemera

[irishfino]

Wynston, desperate for some counterattack, frowned and shook his head. "I just cannot wrap my head around how these marks keep falling for you. Looking at you, there's no rational explanation. And that you follow through without tripping disaster? It boggles the mind. I'm trying to imagine enjoying having sex with you, and it just...it just..."

 

Quinn's glare could have vaporized durasteel.

 

"I just remembered I have somewhere else to be," muttered Wynston.

 

"Yes," Quinn said coldly. "Yes, you really do."

 

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAH! That was freakin' fantastic! AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAH!!!

[irishfino]

"You can't be serious. Working directly under them again? They treat Force-blinds like dirt, and the sacrifice of perfectly good officers' careers is considered a worthwhile cost to...why are you looking at me like that?"

 

 

Hypocrisy, thy name is Malavai Quinn. HAHAHAHAHAAH!

[bright_ephemera]

Here, have a complete novice to photo editing give you a ten-minute rendition of Wynston and Quinn fighting side by side against some imaginary foe! You just know they're fantasizing about shooting each other.

 

http://i1242.photobucket.com/albums/gg522/bright_ephemera/Misc%20SWTOR/QuinnandWynstonSand3.png

 

...Poor Wynston's right arm. That's not shoddy editing, that's actually what body type 1 looks like in that position and that gear.

Edited August 26, 2012 by bright_ephemera

[irishfino]

Wow, Wynston is a dinky little thing. No wonder the women all stare at Quinn when they're out and about. More meat on those bones, lol.

[Vesaniae]

Team QuinnWyn, rockin' dem uniforms...

[bright_ephemera]

Wow, Wynston is a dinky little thing. No wonder the women all stare at Quinn when they're out and about. More meat on those bones, lol.

 

Hey, hey, keep your criticisms off my Agent! I really wanted a guy who could be strong, confident, and heroic without being physically imposing. Of course, that was before I knew he would have to compete with Captain Fit.

 

Team QuinnWyn, rockin' dem uniforms...

 

I guess they would only use uniforms for undercover jobs nowadays, but...I just can't resist 'em. In-game Wynston doesn't own a change of clothes. Quinn has real gear but wears his original recruitment uniform, seen here, whenever possible.

[Vesaniae]

Hey, hey, keep your criticisms off my Agent! I really wanted a guy who could be strong, confident, and heroic without being physically imposing. Of course, that was before I knew he would have to compete with Captain Fit.

 

 

 

I guess they would only use uniforms for undercover jobs nowadays, but...I just can't resist 'em. In-game Wynston doesn't own a change of clothes. Quinn has real gear but wears his original recruitment uniform, seen here, whenever possible.

Oh, I love the Imperial uniforms. I farmed a heroic mission on Balmorra until I had accumulated enough RD-03A Recon Jackets to outfit any and all future agents and Quinns. <3 moddable gear

[irishfino]

Hey, hey, keep your criticisms off my Agent! I really wanted a guy who could be strong, confident, and heroic without being physically imposing. Of course, that was before I knew he would have to compete with Captain Fit.

 

Heeheee. I find it a little funny we have similar tastes in Agents. My agent is a Sith Pureblood, but she's body type one as well. Sneaky, small, and hard to hit at the right angle. She's a bit of a jerk, but she's cool, lol.

[bright_ephemera]

June, 29 ATC: Operation: Stilled Stream

 

This one's less focused on humor, but gives you a notion of an average mission.

 

 

 

Wynston examined the holo feed, reading over the reports several times. "Well, Quinn. It looks like our little operation of the last few months is coming together."

 

"Time to tip off the Republic?"

 

"Time to tip off the Republic."

 

"I do enjoy the fact that this plan involves having their detail in this system completely crushed."

 

"It's necessary to maintain the balance in this sector. Don't think I'm doing it for you."

 

*

 

Quinn and Wynston split up once they reached the Imperial base on Devneth V. Quinn had been playing the role of chief inspector for the preparations of the Empire's secret project; Wynston had, in a human guise, been playing the part of an Imperial defector, feeding mostly-accurate information to the Republic.

 

It was under Quinn's encouragement and planning that the project had proceeded so far ahead of schedule. He strode into the Imperial base unchallenged and came into the command center, which was bustling with activity.

 

"Commander," he said to the appropriate officer. "Report."

 

"Reports are in of a sizeable Republic force coming this way, sir. It's possible they got wind of the project."

 

Quinn flashed a white smile. "A little late, wouldn't you say?"

 

"Yes, sir. It's ready."

 

The commander and Quinn monitored surveillance as the Republic detachment came up the road to the base. The guards had orders to allow them to approach the main building. When they got close enough, Quinn, flanked by armored troopers, went out to stand at the top of the stairs at the front entrance.

 

The Republic contingent marched up and stopped. "Hold your fire," said the Republic leader. "Imperial. You've let us come this far. You must know what we're here for."

 

"Project Stilled Stream, I believe."

 

"We know all about it. The knockout pulse that uses massive amounts of geothermal power to send magnetic interference to destroy air traffic within a huge radius."

 

"I'm impressed. You have some understanding of the matter."

 

"You have a leak. Seems not everybody in your cozy home is happy with your plans." The Republic commander grinned a dark grin. "So I'm afraid we're here to break your toys before the project is complete. Us and our completely functional air support. Say goodbye to your pet project."

 

"Ah," said Quinn, coolly, smoothly. "It seems you were well informed except for one small point." He looked up to the sky. "Your air support won't be coming, or rather, they won't be in any condition to drop ordnance when they arrive. The project is already finished. We need only activate the knockout to drop everything on rotors or wings."

 

The Republic commander looked to his second, then back to Quinn. "You're bluffing."

 

"I invite you to wait and watch. I think I hear your fighters coming now...you can try ordering them back, but I suspect they're already in range."

 

"Jenks, call in the warning. Where did Raif go? Dammit, there's a reason we brought our miracle informant with us! He's bad after all...where'd he go?"

 

Overhead, seven Republic fighters flew in close formation. Quinn tapped his earpiece once. "Take them down," he said in a calm voice pitched to carry.

 

A great green burst of energy blossomed from the highest point in the Imperial base. The seven fighters all cut out sound at once and shot over the base without control, crashing into the forest beyond.

 

Quinn raised his eyebrows in faux thoughtfulness. "Air superiority gone," he said. "And you never had ground superiority. You may surrender now, if you like."

 

"Death first," snarled the Republic leader.

 

Quinn looked a little surprised, but he shrugged, acquiescent. "As you wish."

 

Imperial troops poured out of both front entrances, blasters blazing. Quinn himself set up a small energy shield and started firing over it, neatly, precisely. Less than a minute later, Wynston in the disguise of a human once named Raif deactivated a stealth generator and opened fire with his blaster rifle.

 

The battle was short; even with a messy start, the Imperials outnumbered the Republic forces, and had turret emplacements to back them up. A cheer went up as the last of the Republic people raised their hands in surrender.

 

The Imperial base commander sought Quinn out and saluted. "Success all around, sir."

 

Quinn inclined his head graciously. "It was a pleasure to work with you to bring the project this far, commander."

 

"I look forward to copying the knockout technology. With this, the Empire will be able to hold a base on any planet they choose, and render fighters irrelevant throughout planetary occupations."

 

Quinn shook his head. "Unlikely. The unique magnetic and geothermal properties of the planet are what permitted this project to work. I doubt you will be able to engineer its like elsewhere any time soon." For a moment Quinn seemed to be thinking of something else; then one corner of his mouth flicked up for half a second. "But we have this planet. My work here is done."

 

*

 

"You know," said Wynston, "I've lost track of the number of times I've 'defected to the Republic' as double agent and/or informant."

 

"They continue to fall for it."

 

"They are known for their optimism." Wynston gave an exaggerated sigh. "Poor sods."

 

"You realize if they ever caught on, it would not go well for you."

 

Wynston laughed a small laugh. "Hardly. They would detain me for trial, and that's plenty enough time to escape. Again. Summary execution's the only way to stop me and they're too decent to do it."

 

"Ah." Quinn considered. "You're right. What a shame. But then, I suppose they don't know you like I do."

 

Wynston examined Quinn's expression very closely. "If you turn informant just to turn me in to their least forgiving representatives, I will kill you."

 

"Damn."

 

 

 

Edited August 21, 2012 by bright_ephemera

[bright_ephemera]

June, 29 ATC: Save the Date

 

This entry deals with the Sith Warrior Act 3 spoiler.

 

 

 

(Historical note: In Ruth Means Compassion, Ruth perished while slamming the Emperor into submission before he could carry out an Evil Plan to extinguish life in the galaxy.)

 

 

"You know what today is?"

 

"Perhaps." Quinn scowled at Wynston. "Do you?"

 

"Today was always 'Ruth alternates gorging on candy and bingeing on alcohol until she can't stand up' Day."

 

"She didn't drink."

 

"Oh, yes, she really did."

 

"And she certainly wouldn't have binged."

 

"She was seriously upset about your assassination attempt. I offered to bring her your head on a platter every year, but she wouldn't let me."

 

"Ha. I would have loved to see you try, agent."

 

"You wouldn't have seen me, soldier."

 

Quinn gave him a skeptical look.

 

"Anyway," said Wynston, "I wanted to be sure you got this little helping of guilt in for the day."

 

"I would've remembered on my own."

 

"I just can't believe that wasn't a relationship-killer. I know you had the decade and a half hiatus, but then she got over it. Sort of."

 

"I only shot her the once."

 

"Still a problem."

 

"Just one time! The only time! You've shot your girlfriends on dozens of occasions."

 

"Marks aren't girlfriends, and most of them shot first."

 

"Ruth shot first. Well, swung a lightsaber. Before I personally started shooting at her."

 

"I don't suppose your battle droids opened fire before she swung her lightsaber?"

 

"I don't see why you insist on bringing these technicalities up. The point is, you're hardly in a position to criticize unhealthy relationships."

 

"And you know what kills me?"

 

"You finding a woman with better aim, I hope."

 

"Oh, very witty. No, what kills me is that that whole twisted thing you had going on with her is what powered her last push against the Emperor. If she hadn't kept flipping between that completely inexplicable attraction and, well, soul-rending hatred, all her life, I'm not sure she would've had the passion it took to win. What's even worse is that the very last element that propelled her to that victory was you shooting your son. Actually shooting her son with you, in the back, as she watched."

 

"I only did it to subdue him," Quinn sulked. "The Emperor would've forced him to kill her otherwise."

 

Wynston waved to shush him. "Shot. In the back. It's completely unfair. Your lifelong pattern of betrayal probably saved the galaxy. I sell a girl out, I get angry letters, police warrants, multiple violent revenge attempts, the whole nine yards. You sell a girl out, it directly fuels the salvation of all life in existence. Even your most monumental screwups turn up gold."

 

"I think there was a silver lining in there, but you did a good job of making it sound bad."

 

"When describing your behavior, that's not hard." Wynston checked his chronometer. "Ah, there, and that's my baseline making-your-life-miserable quota for the day."

 

"I knew you had one!"

 

Wynston's eyes got very wide. "Did I say that out loud?"

 

"You did. It wouldn't be the first time you've stated the obvious, and I'm sure it won't be the last."

 

"Hey. Quinn. This conversation was about attacking you."

 

"Oh, really? Don't start what you can't finish, agent."

 

"Says 'I tried to kill my wife, but just the once'-boy."

 

Quinn's mouth worked silently for about three seconds before he gave up and walked off, scowling his most ferocious scowl.

 

 

 

Edited August 23, 2012 by bright_ephemera

[kalenath]

Wow...

 

And I thought I knew dysfunctional families...

 

WELL DONE!

[bright_ephemera]

This one goes out to my fellow active fic writers!

 

June, 29 ATC: Blame

 

Spoilers for Quinn's Act 3 personal quest.

 

 

 

 

 

"Everyone always blames me for everything," groused Quinn.

 

"That's because everything is your fault," said Wynston.

 

"No, it isn't. You don't even know what I'm being condemned for."

 

"Everything. You said. And it's true."

 

"No, it isn't. You've said yourself, even my 'most monumental screwups' have positive results."

 

"That's also true. You work twenty-three hours a day, you have time for both. You're responsible for every bad thing, you're responsible for half the good things, and in short you're insufferably meddlesome."

 

"Of course you would say so. Regardless, I'm not the one who got Vette recollared."

 

"She got collared again? She was on a simple enough job."

 

"Yes, I know. But she got captured and resold. And according to our contact for her, it's somehow my fault."

 

Wynston peered over Quinn's shoulder. "Oh, her! Yes, we were just catching up last week. Your name did come up."

 

"And?"

 

"Well, I explained how you're the architect of all things terrible. I'm glad she remembered." Wynston scanned the mission correspondence on the console and frowned. "Wait, is that her asking you for a date 'to talk it over'?"

 

Quinn hurriedly covered the console. "No. Anyway, the failure of that agent and Vette's mission, and our subsequent need to buy Vette again, was not in any way my fault. Furthermore, I never had an affair with Jaesa as some have started insinuating."

 

The Chiss snorted. "Like hell you didn't."

 

"What? Who would even think that I would ever..."

 

"She's cripplingly compassionate. I could see her taking pity on you back then."

 

"That did not happen! I am not in any way to blame!" Quinn scowled. "What do you mean, pity?"

 

"At the time, it was screamingly obvious what you needed in order to loosen up, but nobody wanted to be the one to do it. I could see Jaesa taking care of that."

 

"I was never involved with Jaesa!"

 

"Mm-hm. Sure."

 

"If you think I would ever have hurt Ruth like--"

 

Wynston raised his eyebrows. "Oh, you would never hurt Ruth?" he said in a voice like a nexu getting ready to pounce. "You don't want to start that while I'm in the room."

 

"Moving on," said Quinn hurriedly, "I've also heard accusations that I went on a killing spree on Tatooine. Which I didn't do."

 

"Are you sure? The description sounded a lot like you."

 

"'Tall, dark, and really b*tchy-looking' does not describe me. And I couldn't have Force choked all those people. I can't even use the Force."

 

"I'm sure you would've found a way. I'm perfectly happy to pin the blame on you."

 

"Leaving aside that ridiculous allegation, the budget shortfall for this fiscal year isn't my fault."

 

"You're the one who put out the memo requiring everyone to update their jackets with expensive duraflex trim immediately."

 

"It was a necessary change. It's better armoring and it looks more official."

 

"And then the other memo six hours later requiring it to be gold-plated instead of silver. Since the silver-plated stuff made our standard jacket indistinguishable from that of the notoriously brutal and hated secret police of Tyrannus V."

 

"It's not my fault their secret police have such excellent taste."

 

"The resulting scramble to fix everyone's clothes before you went on the dress-code-enforcement warpath was the direct cause of shipping disruptions at every office the organization has, plus that horrific slam to our budget. Your call, your poor fashion judgment, your fault."

 

There was a long pause.

 

"All right, that one was my fault."

 

"Damn right."

 

"One thing. One small thing. But the other accusations people sling my way are just ridiculous. I wasn't even at the battle of Talay, I couldn't have lost it."

 

"That's not what Moff Broysc said."

 

"Moff Broysc was a lunatic."

 

"You killed him just to shut him up, you monster."

 

"No, I killed him out of a perfectly professional and constructive desire to...well, shut him up, I suppose, technically. But he was still wrong about me. I never allowed the Jedi targets to flee Taris before the bombardment."

 

"They fled, didn't they? You didn't stop them. Sounds to me like you allowed it."

 

"I wasn't born yet!"

 

"Quinn, you always tell our people that excuses are unacceptable. Jedi got away. You didn't prevent it. Moff Broysc's accusation was right on the money."

 

"That's idiotic, agent. If you want further proof that Broysc had no idea what he was talking about, I'll point out that I never sabotaged the Glory space station."

 

"Yes, you did. Last week."

 

"...He was talking about a different one. My sabotaging last week's space station was a good thing."

 

"Your fault."

 

"It was on your orders!"

 

"I can still blame you," said Wynston. "Oh, hold up, missed call on the holo."

 

They went over to the holoterminal to check its blinking light.

 

"Looks like your son called," Wynston said cheerfully, examining the console readout.

 

"Why didn't you--"

 

"Me? I didn't hear it beep. I was too busy listening to you rant."

 

"I'll need to call him back."

 

"Don't bother. Message he left says he's already on the move. Going in for the Mystic Ritual of Pain, he should be back in two weeks assuming he doesn't die. Looks like you missed your chance to chat."

 

"But the investigation I conducted into the ritual after Rylon mentioned it revealed it to be one big fraudulent deathtrap. Not only is there no meaningful reward for surviving it, they got tipped off to my face and my suspicions which means they'll immediately recognize him as an enemy, and I was...going...to warn him...as soon as he called."

 

"But you were busy ranting," Wynston said helpfully.

 

Quinn pinched the bridge of his nose with a pained expression. "Don't say it."

 

"Quinn, it's my responsibility as the only person in earshot." Wynston clapped his shoulder. "This is your fault."

 

 

 

 

 

 

Shout out to Adwynyth, Vesaniae, and irishfino for, well, blaming Quinn!

 

Edited September 6, 2012 by bright_ephemera

[iamthehoyden]

It is, you know, everything is his fault. EVERYTHING.

<3 This.

[kabeone]

This one goes on to my fellow active fic writers!

 

June, 29 ATC: Blame

 

Spoilers for Quinn's Act 3 personal quest.

 

 

Everything is right in the world now. <3

[irishfino]

Quinn hurriedly covered the console. "No. Anyway, the failure of that agent and Vette's mission, and our subsequent need to buy Vette again, was not in any way my fault. Furthermore, I never had an affair with Jaesa as some have started insinuating."

 

The Chiss snorted. "Like hell you didn't."

 

"What? Who would even think that I would ever..."

 

"She's cripplingly compassionate. I could see her taking pity on you back then."

 

"That did not happen! I am not in any way to blame!" Quinn scowled. "What do you mean, pity?"

*snickers*

 

"Moving on," said Quinn hurriedly, "I've also heard accusations that I went on a killing spree on Tatooine. Which I didn't do."

 

"Are you sure? The description sounded a lot like you."

 

"'Tall, dark, and really b*tchy-looking' does not describe me. And I couldn't have Force choked all those people. I can't even use the Force."

 

"I'm sure you would've found a way. I'm perfectly happy to pin the blame on you."

I think I like that description.

I do not look b*tchy.

I agree.

Thank you.

You look like a b*tch.

Damn you...

 

 

Shout out to Adwynyth, Vesaniae, and irishfino for, well, blaming Quinn!

 

 

 

 

Everything is his fault. Forever. Always.

[Vesaniae]

:D

Why is Quinn so fun to torment? Why? I love him dearly, and yet I cannot help but break into hysterical laughter upon seeing the hell he goes through in everyone's fics, including my own...

[ragnnerok]

:D

Why is Quinn so fun to torment? Why? I love him dearly, and yet I cannot help but break into hysterical laughter upon seeing the hell he goes through in everyone's fics, including my own...

 

Because we are all sick and gloriously evil. Plus it's funny.

[Adwynyth]

Because we are all sick and gloriously evil. Plus it's funny.

I can't agree with both parts of this explanation enough.

[bright_ephemera]

Having seen the lovely writing-process posts on other threads, I'd like to offer you a representative in-progress draft for this series. Sometimes these things start with a fun scenario: What if nuisance gizka made it onto the Aegis? Sometimes they start with a verbal exchange: "Happy birthday. Kaliyo and I used to do [something absurd] for every birthday." "Kaliyo and you were dangerously insane." In any case, here's what a draft looks like halfway through:

 

"That's rather a lot of effort."

 

"Most activities on this scale are."

 

"I am accustomed to just calling the Emperor's Wrath and having her stomp the problem underfoot."

 

"That's what the rest of us call a privileged background."

 

"I miss her." A quiet moment passed. "Now that I think of it, I miss her out of all proportion to the amount of time we actually had getting along together."

 

blah blah

 

"I suppose it's also possible to miss an enemy. Especially one you've been clashing with for a while." Wynston blinked, lost focus for a moment. "Yes, actually, that makes sense. That makes a lot of sense." He shook his head and looked over at Quinn. "That understanding just made you even more depressing than you already were."

 

"I'll make a note to feel bad about how awkward that must be for you."

 

Hazard: Hit on Quinn? How mean do I feel today?

Interrupt with explosions?

 

nah

 

To buy tonight: bread, shampoo, fruit

 

"Might we consider recruiting actual Sith?"

 

"For creating the new world order in which Force users don't rule us all?"

 

"Some might cooperate. Not all Sith are good at properly understanding their best interests."

 

"Furthermore, I am never again making the mistake of letting you work with someone who derives power from anger and sexual frustration."

 

"Straight male Sith exist, you know. Or gay women."

 

"There's still the anger issue."

 

"I don't provoke more anger than you do, agent."

 

[somebody stops and considers disputing that, then shakes his/her head and decides not to fight that battle?]

[Note to self, introduce more characters.]

 

blah

 

"I find your personnel decisions...difficult to comprehend at times."

 

"Saved the galaxy once, didn't it?"

Edited August 31, 2012 by bright_ephemera

[Earthmama]

To buy tonight: bread, shampoo, fruit

 

^^

My favorite part! LOL