November 8, 2006
noon (NYC time)


Robyn Quinn hadn't felt this sick in years. She wasn't sure what she'd eaten to get like this - maybe it was the sushi she'd had with Amanda and Royce last night. In fact, if she had to put money on it, that's exactly what she would say it was. This was she got for letting them talk her into Asian food instead of Asian girls, like the one she'd been wanting to get a number from earlier in the day. It wasn't every day super cute girls came into Barnes & Noble of all places and started flirting with the bored looking customer service girl.

Well, what's done is done.

Quinn also she feels like she's done. Done ever eating again, at least. With a groan, she picks herself up off the floor of her Brooklyn apartment's bathroom. She'd been lucky enough to find a hair tie, but it's now pulled out and tossed aside in favour of letting her fuchsia-dyed hair fall freely to her shoulders. To think, she was supposed to be going to a party today with Amanda. She was supposed to be DJing, she'd even bought a whole array of glowsticks, bracelets, and other things for this! They'd been pretty pissed when she'd called to cancel this morning. She'd promised to send Amanda with check they'd given her as a deposit. She hadn't done that. Oops.


Quinn grimaces, making her way back out to the living room, where she scoops up her hot pink Moto Razr. Flipping it open, she pulls up the first name in her contacts - Amanda Covington.

Selecting it and pressing send, Quinn trudges her way over to the window looks out towards the direction of Manhattan, where the party was being held. It rings once, twice, three times. Voicemail. Quinn sighs, hand resting on the neck of her sparkly red acoustic guitar. "Amanda, hey hon," she starts after the beep, turning back from the window and starting off towards the table where her violin sat. "Was just callin' t' see h-"

Suddenly, a flash of light behind her, and her eyes widen.

She turns back to look out the window, and all she can see on the other side is light, fury and smoke. The line goes dead. The lights are next.

As the room fill back up with light again, Quinn stares out into the abyss of her window, speechless.

November 8, 2011
3 pm (NYC time)

Swallowed up all the light
shadows of the islands of Brooklyn
shores I call my home

Everything is happening so fast around her.

For a moment, Robyn Quinn feels like she's completely out of her depth here, black hair falling over one side of her face as she pats down her vest, back against a wall and Smith & Wesson in hand. She'd done a lot with the Ferry over the past year and a half but nothing like this. It was too late in the day to turn it around and change her mind. She was here, and nothing was going to change that. She lets her feet carry her, instinct droned into her by Jensen Raith, Benjamin Ryans, and other members of Special Activities over the last six month.

It's strangeā€¦
Why you swallowed up the moon
Cast it all to ash and dust
Washed it all away to start again

She couldn't help but wonder what Elaine would think. Sable would probably give her a "Hell yeah!"; Delilah too for that matter. Royce would probably be yelling at her, screaming "What the hell is wrong with you" as he threatened to break her bass. That brings a smile to her face as something is passed to her - a list of names for those held within the Arcology. A hand reaches up, adjusting the earbud connected to her iPod as it plays Shores of the Empire State into her ear. It makes something she sees on the list that much more impossible, Quinn's breath catching in her throat.

Standing on the shores of the Empire State
beaches of 34th street
Lapping shores of the Empire State
Building a new day from the remains
of all that we have been
for the nothing left behind

Else Kjelstrom. Quinn stares in disbelief, her hand shaking for a moment. There was literally no way. She hands the list off to someone else, she doesn't even see who, and runs over to Eve Mas, taking the other musician by the arm."Lead the way, Eve. We have someone t' save!"

If the last year and a half has taught her anything, it's to expect the impossible.

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