Drink with me to days gone by
Who: Cris and Cordy (and anyone else who wants to stumble into the tavern)
What: Eating, Drinking, Making Merry
When: Sunday evening
Where: The Frolicking Stoat
Although--thankfully--business had never again been so overwhelming as it was on opening night, the Frolicking Stoat was consistently filled with patrons each night. Cordelia was pleased. It was busy enough that she was positive the tavern was doing well, but not so crowded that it was hard to get through the room or that the alcohol was depleted.
This particular night, Cordelia found herself exhausted. She was still adjusting to her new sleeping schedule and though she usually loved being able to talk with all the patrons and though she was terribly proud of how well the tavern was running, she just wanted to crawl into bed and pull the covers over herself at the moment. She was exhausted, her head was sore, and her feet were beginning to hurt. She knew the symptoms, she'd doubtlessly be spending the next few days hunched over and grasping her abdomen as she talked to the customers. And wasn't that attractive?
Still, despite how miserable she really was, her voice remained bright and her smile was cheerful as she babbled to one of the demon patrons--dark hair, large forehead, broad shoulders. He was a regular, and though he remained mostly quiet while she chattered to him, he always left generous tips after she showed him some attention. If he were a nobleman, she would have known his type immediately. Engaged, maybe married; enjoys getting the female attention but too devoted to his significant other to really flirt back. With the demons, though, it was harder to tell. She was still beginning to understand them, their society, their culture.
And gods, she wanted to go to sleep.
What: Eating, Drinking, Making Merry
When: Sunday evening
Where: The Frolicking Stoat
Although--thankfully--business had never again been so overwhelming as it was on opening night, the Frolicking Stoat was consistently filled with patrons each night. Cordelia was pleased. It was busy enough that she was positive the tavern was doing well, but not so crowded that it was hard to get through the room or that the alcohol was depleted.
This particular night, Cordelia found herself exhausted. She was still adjusting to her new sleeping schedule and though she usually loved being able to talk with all the patrons and though she was terribly proud of how well the tavern was running, she just wanted to crawl into bed and pull the covers over herself at the moment. She was exhausted, her head was sore, and her feet were beginning to hurt. She knew the symptoms, she'd doubtlessly be spending the next few days hunched over and grasping her abdomen as she talked to the customers. And wasn't that attractive?
Still, despite how miserable she really was, her voice remained bright and her smile was cheerful as she babbled to one of the demon patrons--dark hair, large forehead, broad shoulders. He was a regular, and though he remained mostly quiet while she chattered to him, he always left generous tips after she showed him some attention. If he were a nobleman, she would have known his type immediately. Engaged, maybe married; enjoys getting the female attention but too devoted to his significant other to really flirt back. With the demons, though, it was harder to tell. She was still beginning to understand them, their society, their culture.
And gods, she wanted to go to sleep.