(Untitled)

[the_woodpecker]

*Bernard wanders out of the staff quarters looking a little pale; he obviously ran afoul of the flu that's been sweeping through the staff during the last couple of days. He's a little tired, but not infectious. He goes behind the bar

Comments

[good_doctor]

*places an old fashioned doctor's case on the bar. His voice is soft and polite, though emotionless*

Might you know, young man, where they keep the children?

[the_woodpecker]

*is startled by the question*

Excuse me?

[good_doctor]

*a small smile*

My work, it seems, is never done.

[the_woodpecker]

*is distinctly uncomfortable*

What work is that? Can I get you a drink, sir?

[ulfin_kingsman]

*perks noticeably at the mention of food*

Might I have some of the chicken stew?

[good_doctor]

*turns to him*

Are you feeling ill, boy?

[ulfin_kingsman]

*slightly wary look*

No, I'm fine. Just hungry.

[good_doctor]

A boy your age ought to be eating more hardy dishes.

[no_prisoner]

"Huh, new barkeeper." He sets his empty plate down and shoves his cup over. "Refill me on coffee, please." In an afterthought. "And that stew looks good. A small portion of that, if there's still some left."

[the_woodpecker]

Hi, I'm Bernard. *refills coffee, then goes to the back and gets a bowl of stew* Plenty left. Gil made enough stew to cure a small army of whatever ails them.

[no_prisoner]

"Thanks. Eddie." He tries the stew. "Yes, really good. Compliments to Gil." He grins and gives the stew its rightfully deserved attention.

[the_woodpecker]

Let me know if you need anything else. *moves away*

[anthy_rosebride]

Is there any shaved ice? Oh, and some tea, please.

[the_woodpecker]

*hands Anthy a bowl of shaved ice and a cup of tea*

How are you tonight, Anthy?

[anthy_rosebride]

I'm fine, thanks. *digs into the shaved ice happily* Fortunately not sick. Are you all right?

[the_woodpecker]

*grins wanly*

Yeah, I'm ok. Touch of the flu. I'm lucky, compared to Kassandra. *shakes head*

[gil_whimple]

*comes out of kitchen with a large wastepaper basket and an absolutely enormous box of tissues. Places basket on floor behind bar and tissues on the bar. Takes one, blows nose, which is very red, and drops tissue into basket, speaks in a very hoarse and husky voice*

There's chicken stew, chicken soup, cream crackers and weak tea. Fried food is OFF tonight as my rat is poorly too.

Night night Bernard, sweetie, I'm going back to bed.

[the_woodpecker]

Shit, Gil, you look fucking awful. Go to bed, I'll take care of the bar. And thanks.

[gil_whimple]

Thanks, I will. Aaaaaahhhhh

*grabs for tissue*

choo *catches most of the sneeze and groans* oh gods

I'll keep the kettles hot for toddies as well.

*casually whips a half of White Horse from the back as he's far too sensible to use a single malt for a cold cure and returns to the kitchen to squeeze some lemons.*

[the_woodpecker]

*calls after him*

Don't strain yourself! You should be in bed!