He took away my Pub. All that hard work, and he took it away.

I'm sorry. I don't think I can fit everyone in my living room for drinks.


[spam for deck]
[Arkady is just going to be a sobbing disconsolate ball in the spot on the Deck where her pub was for a while.]

 [GODDAMN THAT IS A BIG CHICKEN.]

[Sir Bertie Rooster peers down at the camera from where he's towering over its wielder, tilting his head back and forth as he considers his now tiny Mom. Arkady for her part giggles threadily at his confusion, then squeaks,]

Well! Clearly there's only one way to handle this situation!

[There is a faint flash of purple light, and Bertie suddenly calms, and settles down into a roost. The image blurs as Arkady hooks her communicator to her belt, runs over and proceeds to climb the chicken-mountain with little grunts. Once settled gripping his ruff, she gets out the communicator again and shows the view from the rooster's back.]

Onward, my chikken!

[And off he goes, walking out the door (which had been fortunately ajar) and wandering out into the hallway, occasionally letting out a rumbly cluck.]

Touko dear? Are you all right? I'm coming to check on you. 

 [Arkady is stirring an enormous cauldron with a gigantic white maple paddle. Steam bubbles up from it. Now and again she takes a bucket and pours a foamy brown liquid into the smaller white maple cauldron beside her. The smaller cauldron has several serving bowls hanging on pegs around its rim.]

Hello loves! Well, Scrad and Charlie are free men now. They ran home to undo some nastiness, but I've made a little something to celebrate. Don't worry about coming down the pub, I'll be popping round to you. 

[spam for public areas]
[Arkady pops into view with the wooden cauldron beside her, wielding a long ladle with which she continuously froths and stirs the mixture between serving out bowlsful. To announce her arrival in each place, she sings in a fluting voice:]

Wassail! wassail! all over the town,
Our toast it is white and our ale it is brown;
Our bowl it is made of the white maple tree;
With the wassailing bowl, we'll drink to thee....

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

[Arkady dances around her living room with the chickens chasing her.]

We've been hit with a wave of cuteness!

[Okay, calm down Arkady. She pauses to catch her breath.]

Right! Time to be a responsible Warden and such.

[Serious face. Really. All right, so it's on the verge of crumbling, but still.]

Right! I need to know who's left with opposable thumbs, we still need to get everyone fed and watered and--rather urgently--let out of their rooms.

Also I need to know who needs out of their rooms. I'll be by presently!

[private to Scrad and Charlie]
Are you all right, lads?

[private to Admiral]
Right! I'm going to need several extra pounds each of fresh raw meat, veg and fruit, three twenty-pound bales of catnip, three bushels of tennis balls, a very large tub of vitamin powder and a two pound tub of wild mealworms. Also please put two large fishtanks into the pub, one salt, one fresh, and stock each with small bait fish.

Yes, I do know how to party.

[spam for deck--threadjack as wanted]
[Arkady, normally a purveyor of intoxicants, doesn't want anyone to have to go without. So, a bit after four PM every day of the Flood, she calmly lugs out an enormous bale of catnip, breaks it open and spreads a nice layer around on the deck near the pub windows, so she can watch the shenanigans. It takes her a while to finish up, and by the time she does the whole area smells of the fresh herb.] 

 [Arkady is sitting cheerily on her sofa in her apartment, with a pair of sleepy chickens on her lap.] The air is slightly aswirl with what one can only hope is incense smoke.]

Hello dears. Won't be at the pub today until the night shift, so if you're bored or have need of me come seek me out in my cabin. 

[private to Kay]
Well, I pulled the twins! [She actually sounds cheerfully optimistic about this.] If you have any questions, advice or opinions I'd love to hear them.

[private to Scrad and Charlie]
Hullo lads. I want to catch up with you before we drag file-readings or formalities into this, all right? Please come by my cabin. 

[seperate privates to Tony, Reaver and Franlin]
Are you all right, luv?

[spam for Level 2]
[The door to 2-8 is propped open. Also festooned with teensy Christmas lights. There's a faint smell of incense and...birdiness...coming from within. Arkady putters around humming, feeding her fish and tidying up the place a bit.] 

 [Arkady's standing in one of the hallways, looking a little lost.]

...Oh. So this is what it feels like.

Um...Dr. House's door has returned to Barge normal. So...he's left us. 

[She hopes it just means he woke up on the damn operating table. She has to convince herself that that's what happened.]

I'll be down the pub if anyone needs anything.

[Friends filter]
I could use a hug. I'll be all right, but I could still use a hug.

[Private for Reaver]
So I heard you're interested in our little establishment. Well, there's a bit of learning involved and I'm happy to help with that. Perhaps we should start with a tasting?

[Spam for pub]
[Arkady is puttering around, teleporting now and again to save time or rescue a dropped glass. She's clearly coping with her loss, but wears the occasional sadface. She's pretty much letting in anyone who knocks.]

 Pub's back open, if anyone needs anything.

[Generous Friends Filter]
Everyone all right, then? I've invented a few new drinks if anyone feels like sampling.

[private to House]
Right. Well, you've had more than enough time to get settled. And now that you're in need of both work and a new dispensation method for your medicine, it is time we talked.

[Calm. This place is calm. Not necessarily happy all the time, but serene and contemplative. It has the air of a Zen garden.]

[The first thing that the dreamer sees is an endless sea of soft purple light, which slowly rises up to engulf everything. Then it clears...and the dreamer is sitting on a hillside in the fresh air overlooking a vast gulf of space. Purple light surrounds everything here: faint sparkles around earth and stone, bright glimmers in the trees, and whole shining nimbuses around the dreamers and anyone with them.]

[The light, strangely enough, is interconnected, especially between members of the same species. The network of sapient beings spreads out in the gulf like an endless sea of interconnected stars. Every person bears these streamers of light, usually emanating from the chest area, and linking to others--even the bodiless images of those passed on. Some ties are strong and bright; others ephemeral and dying.]

[Arkady sits on the hillside with her back to the visitors, contemplating the light quietly.]

 [The camera pulls in tight on a banana split dish full of vanilla ice cream scoops. Arkady, humming, picks up a bottle of Kahlua and starts drizzling it over a section of the "sundae". Then Godiva liqueur for the middle. Finally, on the end, Bailey's.]

Ladies an' gentlemen and such, I give you: the Triple Threat. New invention of mine. Now in order to mass produce these lovelies, I'll need some supplies from the kitchen and one or two extra sets of hands. Once that is set up, I'm opening up the pub for a night that doesn't have the police-state rules. Right? Right. 

[private to Dr. House]
I have a proposition for you.

[pubspam!]
[Arkady is popping around the room like the alcohol fairy, making sure everyone is set up. Now that the regulars are more or less used to her teleporting ways she can tend bar a lot more efficiently.]

 Hello loves!

[Arkady appears on screen in a straw hat decorated with peacock feathers, with a fake mustache made of the same feathers held to her upper lip.]

A very clever fellow I met recently posed the question: why is there no live music in the pub? Perhaps we can fix this. Do we have any musicians on board whom I can lure out of the closet?

[spam for pub]
[Arkady is humming as she wanders around, putting single daisies in bud vases on the tables between serving drinks. She seems just a little dreamy and spaced out, and teleports more than usual to get around the room, forgetting herself. La la la...]