B1, Day 2 [public channel]

[whattaprick]

[ There are a lot of things people need to do right now: help the Prince's servants get resettled, get started on figuring out who can work on a cure for the petrification, deal with the trauma of dying in a hopefully healthy and non-self-destructive way, show the new people the ropes of what the Carnival has to work with.

Instead, in the morning of the second day since the Prince was defeated, anyone on the radio gets this: ]

So, I've been wondering.

[ The Nightrider's voice, for those who recognize it, has definitely been better. It's a low, hoarse rasp, and the pause at the end is not just for effect, but to actually catch his breath. ]

Just how old is everyone here, anyway? Here, I'll start. I'm ... pretty sure I'm almost sixty. [ A beat. ] ... Maybe.

[ Why did anyone let this man have his radio back again? ]

[ ooc; Lambert's flat on his back in the medical tent for this, feel free to bug him in person and threadjack each other at will. ]

Comments

[sunflowerfields]

Good. The best thing for you right now is some hot tea, with milk and honey. It will do wonders for your throat, as will not talking.

[I mean, it won't cure the poison, but we're all stuck taking this one step at a time.]

[whattaprick]

You sure you can't put some rum in that?

[sunflowerfields]

You can have as much rum as you want... after you've recovered.

[whattaprick]

I'll hold you to that.

[sunflowerfields]

I'll bake an entire rum cake, just for you. How does that sound?

[whattaprick]

[ He's not really much of a cake guy, but... ]

You've got yourself a deal.