(Untitled)

[red_ponytail]

It was a pretty big sodding difference these days, cooking in the kitchen of the compound - though Bill wasn't sure it could be called that at the moment. It was rather nice, actually, having so much more available to work with, and not only was there whatever they had on hand, it was easy to nip out to the shops and pick up a thing or two. Bill

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[a_swan_diver]

Bella followed the sounds first, wondering it someone else had managed to get themselves caught under the mistletoe and was banging away for attention to get rescued. Then she smelled the baking bread and sighed in delight.

"I'm hoping that bread is for general consumption?" She sniffed the air. "And soup, too?"

[red_ponytail]

"It all is," Bill replied, looking up at Bella with a friendly smile before he took the pan over and slid it into the oven. "Help yourself. I hope you're hungry, I reckon I've made enough for all of the islanders plus those ghost people that've been walking about."

[a_swan_diver]

"Good. Because that soup smells incredible."

Bella giggled, thinking of she and Craig scandalizing hell out of the ghosts the day she got caught under the mistletoe. "They're kind of fun to mess with sometimes.

[jack_artful]

Dodger had never taken food for granted. Whether he was nabbing a loaf and a few slices of ham to feed the boys, or using a few halfpennies from Fagin's fencing to buy something from the pub, it was always a risk - if he took too much, he might get caught, or he got too little, he was beat, or, worse, they went hungry. He still ate whenever he could, and ate it quickly like it might be snatched away at any moment

[red_ponytail]

"Nice togs!" Reynald repeated, grinning, before going back to his wooden spoons.

"Oi, Dodger," Bill greeted, after glancing down with a smile at his wee charge for the afternoon. "Fancy a bite? Dinner's all ready, you can help yourself."

[jack_artful]

Dodger nodded agreeably at the little boy, turning his grin to Bill.

"Don't mind if I do!" Dodger said brightly, and went about filling a plate and digging into it with an impressive sort of dedication, appreciation, and speed. "Yer a saint, Billy." He said, mouth full.

[legendarymadman]

Geoffrey credits his ease with the current wardrobe standards to his many years on the stage, and in fact many of the outfits he's uncovered, whether at home or in the compound, bring back memories of productions past. It's almost surprising to find how many of them are good memories these days, largely untainted by what came after, in those dark times between his glory days in the theatre, and his glory days in life.

"Should I ask what's on the menu tonight?" he asks as he steps up to dinner. "Or should I just dine and enjoy the spread?"

[1000_cranes]

"Sometimes, I think it's best to just dive in and end up with what you end up with," says Charlie, already parked at one of the tables with Cadi in her high-chair, making a mess of Yorkshire pudding and vegetables. Charlie shreds bread with her fingers.

"And then you come eat with us, Grandpa."

[legendarymadman]

"Only if you promise I'm not going to get gravy fingerprints on my coat," he says, giving himself a fairly healthy serving of pretty much everything. "I have it on good authority I'm dashing in this one. It's nice to be dashing sometimes."

[1000_cranes]

"I promise to keep Cadi at arm's length," says Charlie, popping a piece of bread into her mouth. "And, you know, personally? I think it's hard for any man to not look dashin' when he's dressed like that."