(no subject)

[1stwitness]

"...really? Are you quite certain?" Ichabod asks on receipt of a napkin. "Well, all right, if you like."

And he takes his place behind the Bar.

Specials:

Sam Adams
Barbadian Best Amber Rum
Lemonade

Have at!

Comments

[witchfinder_general]

"Good evening, Mr. Crane!"

That is Father Harman who had been sitting and reading a book in a corner; he gets up now and comes walking towards the bar.

[1stwitness]

"Father Harman", he says with a smile. "How are you this evening?"

[witchfinder_general]

"Quite content," Father Harman says. "Reading up on magic from other worlds; apparently, the library here started with comparative magic a speciality, so they have everything you can possibly imagine. But I would quite enjoy a short break."

[1stwitness]

"Then you should have one. What would you like to drink?"

[witchfinder_general]

"The Sam Adams is beer?" Father Harman guesses.

[1stwitness]

"That it is", he says with a grin. "I think it would have amused the man greatly."

[witchfinder_general]

"You knew him?" Father Harman asks.

[1stwitness]

"I knew many of the men now called the Founding Fathers. If fate had not intervened, history might even have counted me among them."

[witchfinder_general]

"I'm sure you'd have had a few constructive ideas to contribute to the papers they were writing up," Father Harman says. "Well, then I'll have a glass of that beer named for your former acquaintance."

[pullsneedles]

The person behind the bar is familiar. At least, to one out of two. But once the other is alerted, both boy and dragon are happy to see him. A quick trip is made outside, and his arms hold three tall sunflowers when he returns.

Hello again, Ichabod Crane, the Dark Dragon greets. It has been some time, but your kindness has not been forgotten.

"Hi," the youth pipes up. "We only sorta met before, I guess, but I hadn't thanked you yet for helpin' me when I came back here. So thanks!"

He offers him the sunflowers.

[1stwitness]

"Lucas!" He sounds genuinely delighted, and accepts the sunflowers. "It's good to see you looking so well - and hello, Dragon."

[pullsneedles]

"Well, I've had a lotta help. An' someone from my world showed up recently."

A rare occurrence we were glad to see happen, the Dragon comments, rumbling slightly with warmth.

Lucas takes a seat and looks over the menu.

"I'd like a lemonade, please, Mr. Ichabod."

[1stwitness]

"Lemonade it is." He starts to pour it, real homemade lemonade from a jug. "So an old friend, then, this person from your world?"

[pullsneedles]

Just the kind he's used to.

"Yeah. We traveled a lot, all over the Nowhere Islands. He sorta but not really remembers my friends here, and we've been lookin' for something for him to do once he gets used to the place."

He will find a place, just as you have, the Dragon assures the boy. Lucas tends the gardens here, and the sunflowers we've brought grew under the care of his hands.

[1stwitness]

"He can't have been here long", Ichabod agrees reassuringly. "He'll settle in given a little time, I'm sure - perhaps he could help with your garden, to give him something to do in the first days?"

[pullsneedles]

"Yeah, that'd be nice. He keeps diff'rent hours from me, though. But that might work out for the garden, too. Oh, and he can even stay in one spot while I fetch things with my teleport!"

[1stwitness]

"Surely he could keep whatever hours he chooses, now he's here?"

[death_gone_mad]

"Stop squirming you abomination; I am not about to allow an undead thing like you to roam freely," complains a young redheaded girl as she drags a struggling zombie past the bar.

The girl is dressed in even more antiquated fashions than Ichabod, but they are the clothes of a lower class citizen of a large city, so how antiquated will be unclear.

She is too busy to stop for a drink and a chat, so she doesn't.

[1stwitness]

He stares, eyebrows raised, as she passes.

"...Miss? Might I help with your... creature?"

[death_gone_mad]

The girl stops for a while to consider his offer.

"If you can leave the bar unattended, you could help by carrying its legs."

She's served as bartender before, though as an older woman. All times she had been compelled to stay behind the bar. It might be the same for other bartenders, she reasons.

[1stwitness]

"For a few minutes, perhaps - a moment." He writes out a quick note, apologising for his absence and promising to be back soon. "There. Where are you taking it?"

[death_gone_mad]

"Out the the back door so that I can dispose of it. I don't think people in here would appreciate the smell or the mess if I did it in here," she answers.

[1stwitness]

"Most likely not." He grabs the thing's legs. "...what is it?"

[death_gone_mad]

"A zombie," she says. "Someone who should be resting in a grave but was awoken by a necromancer to cause trouble for the living," she explains, a hint of anger and regret in her voice.

Now that she has the zombie by the arms and Ichabod has him by the legs, they should have a lot less trouble bringing it outside.

[1stwitness]

"...in body only, I hope?" he asks with a frown. "This poor creature's soul hasn't been dragged back?"