Florence has made one of the harder decisions she's ever had to make.

It was, actually, surprisingly easy to come to, though. You love someone enough, you have to let them go. You don't love them enough, and it's not as hard to let them go as you would've thought.

She's sober, amazingly - completely sober, for probably the first time in weeks, ( Read more... )

So. The narration feels a bit guilty for not having posted certain people in for a while. So here's a post.

Kaylee has wandered in again, with a baby inna sling against her chest. She looks very cheerful about being here, and has thought up her usual treat of strawberries and cream to celebrate.

Florence is sitting at the bar, not even ( Read more... )

Svetlana did not want to be in Bangkok. As far as she was concerned, her husband could stay where he was, playing his chess and caressing his mistress. He never once spared a thought for his children or his wife - why should they spare a thought for him ( Read more... )

The Master is slightly bemused by the Christmas decorations that have spontaneously appeared in the Inn. He's currently sitting in a chair facing a Christmas tree, holding a drink in one hand (of Gallifreyan, not human, origin), tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair with the other. He's wondering, a little, if the Christmas tree is going to ( Read more... )

Florence is, as usual, at the bar.

Well, more accurately, she's in a little corner booth very near the bar, mostly out of sight. She doesn't like the way Walter and Tolya have been looking at her lately, when they see her drinking. It makes her feel like a child.

She's perfectly fine.

Really.

There's a few people in the Inn that are under one narration, and as the narration does not wish to flood flists, they're all in one post.

April is listening to her walkman and looking through a catalog on her datapad. The height of fashion from around the galaxy. She's looking for the perfect dress. She hasn't found it yet. She knows she will ( Read more... )

Florence has been trying to ignore the stomach pain for about an hour. But it's just gotten too bad. And she knows what it feels like, which confuses the hell out of her. (In fact, the fact that she's been through it before may have something to do with why she's feeling it as strongly as she does. That and the fact that she's pretty close to ( Read more... )

There's a handful of people downstairs who have nothing to do with one another but are getting only one post between them, because their narration is lazy and doesn't want to make six separate posts.

Florence is sitting towards the back of the restaurant, singing softly and off-key to herself. It's quite possible - nay, likely - that she's drunk ( Read more... )

Freddie hasn't been downstairs in the past week or so, and now that he's decided to emerge, he's sitting in a chair somewhat isolated from the main areas people congregate, with a cup of coffee that's rapidly cooling and a photo album on his lap ( Read more... )

Everyone in the Inn received, at about ten this morning, a note.

Dear residents of the Inn ( Read more... )