(no subject)

[iprotectyou]

(OOC: And then there was the time seven-year-old Chirrut broke his hand on Baze's nose.)

IMBD Flu & Fight Club

[touched_by_fire]

 Loras had woken feeling ill and not knowing where he was. He was also dressed as some kind of peasant and that was perhaps the worst of it. Somehow, he knew he could get new clothing from the magical bar, which proved true despite all common sense.

(Real magic!)

Wandering about as he drank spiced wine, he'd come across an old flyer mentioning a small tournament or at least something like it. Seeing as how he needed some cheer, a fight would be just the thing. A few minutes with a borrowed quill, ink, and paper, and there is now a fresh notice posted:

Come all to test your skill and mettle beneath the winter sun. Shake off the ill humors!

He has no idea why the previous postings had so many rules, but he sees no reason for them.

Now he stands swinging the odd practice sword bar gave him for use. A strange thing and likely more magic. While it had the weight of a steel sword, it was squishy and held no edge. He would be the knight of fools were he to fight with such back home, but here it would have to do.

[OOC: Rules are simple and the usual for fight clubs past. Have fun, thread as often as you'd like, but if any fight gets serious, Security is the only ones who can physically break them up. If you'd rather just talk with Danny Loras, feel free to tag and mention it. I will go slow in about an hour, until tomorrow.]

IMDb flu

[just_cant_lose]

 
Ohhhh, headache. Ohhh sore throat, and sneezing. Ohhhh waking up in a strange room, next to a strange man. 

Jones is curled up into a tight ball in an armchair by the fire, both hands wrapped around an enormous mug of hot chocolate. He doesn't even know how he got it, except that he sort of wished aloud he had one and then suddenly there it was. Which is highly suspicious really, but he's not well enough to care - and anyway, he's sure, sure, no one would do anything horrible like give him a poisoned drink. Why would they? That's ridiculous. People don't do things like that.

Of course, people don't usually wake up in bedrooms above a pub that appears to be in space, either. This is like one of Art's film script ideas come to life, only without Art to make it make sense. So Jones is just going to sit here until it makes sense on its own. It's bound to happen. He has faith in these things. 



[OOC: IMDB, obviously - Jim thinks he's Jones from My Life in Film.]

(no subject)

[is_the_motion]

Bonnie is busy in the kitchen, making a big batch of her soup for all the invalids.

Surely she has to be immune this year, after having had it so many times? She's not sure.

But in any case, people need nourishment. So she brings out the large pots of soup to the bar when they're ready.