What: Creedy has a feast.
When: Last night ._.
Where: Genosha Tower
Warnings: Beware of any alcohol Creedy hands you and any food Sirius brought

Gonna toss a few different subthreads in here for before, during and after. The feast is being held at Genosha Tower and there is all kinds of food to be had, as well as Creedy's Dangerous own special lable of alcohol. Drink at your own risk.

Right so. I know I said we'd be 'avin a feast last weekend. But somethin' got in the water around here. I'm not real clear on the details, actually. Anyhow what I'm tryin' t' say is that we've 'ad a reschedulin' and the feast is Tonight.

[He doesn't look apologetic at all as he gestures at a surface laid out with all kinds of fresh fruits, vegetables and breads. There's meat as well, of course, but you'd have to be there to catch a glimpse. He grins and rolls his shoulders, squinting a bit at the camera.]

I know you lot can't resist free food and my own special brew of Northumberland Dragonsbreath so I'll just go ahead and count you in, yeah?

Connor, Kenzi, Sirius, Conrad, Nathan. At the least I expect you lot to be here. Come on then, no need to be shy.

Trust me you'll not want to be missin' it.

...Oh and uh, Quinn. I think I might need help in the kitchen, mate. I'm not sure what the half of this is supposed to do but we've got a lot of food needs cookin' before it spoils on us.

[Yes. Because he spent his ENTIRE STIPEND on food last week.]

[The video that turns on sweeps around the produce section first, Creedy's unmistakeable accent, heavy with the Scottish tones he'd refused to lose, starts off with a whistle that trails into a bloody hell. The camera keeps moving, past the fruits and vegetables to the meats. When it ends he turns it back around to face himself, shakes his head a moment and just stares.]

I've never seen so much bloody food. Where d'they get it all? 

Quinn. Get o'er here quick as you can.

[He's got a cart full of can goods and as much produce, fruit and meat as he could buy with his stipend and the cart gets a brief go with the camera before he's grinning again and giving a wink.]

Who wants to join in on a right brilliant feast?  Tomorrow, I think. Never know how long all this'll last. I know the lot of you can't all turn down good food and me special black lable.

[He gives another pause and looks deadly serious at the camera for a moment.]

Quinn. They 'ave honest to real bogroll and tissue here. You have to see this place for yourself, mate.

[Creedy gives the camera a crooked grin, patting his hand almost affectionately on the keg beside him.]

Conrad, No offense on ya, mate. Your alcohol is well and fine for a tame man's tastes, but this here beauty is damn near impossible to beat. I think I'll be callin' it Northumberland Dragonsbreath. Finest... well... don't rightly have a  type of alcohol to call it, but it'll certainly put a dimmer on anythin' you've 'ad before it. Me 'n Quinn 'ave been drinking my special black lable for years and we're still standin'. Well. He is. I'm still not so sure about the whole livin thing.

Well. It could use another week, but here's to you, New Moore. Wherever the fuck this is and whoever is responsible for it. Appreciate the not bein' dead bit.

[He taps out a fifth a glass and takes a gulp. To his credit, the grimace is only barely visible a second when it burns the whole way down and he manages to hold his cough, even if it sounds in the slight rasp his voice takes on.]

Doesn' get better than this.

[Do not take his word for it. Seriously. For your own safety. In the functioning world this deadly spirit is called Pruno or prison wine. It's made of moldy fruit and ketchup and distilled to near 160% proof in a manner of days. Two weeks to prime. It will burn you the whole way down and sink in hard and fast. But if you're clever and tip it back fast enough to keep it from touching your throat too much, or your tongue, you might avoid the taste and the fire that follows it.]

Now all I need is a steel barrel.

[And another five or so days to age it. But who's counting, really?]

So I've been here for... let's face it, it's been too long already, and my hopes for my old London lifestyle cropping up here are finally waning thin, so I thought that I should put my other skills to use.

I think I'm going to set up a surgery here in New Moore. A private business who won't be in the pockets of those who brought us here, whom none of us seem to trust anyway. And why should we? For all we know, we've all been kidnapped and drugged, so it's about time that one of us, with our best interests at heart, did something about it and set up a safe place for us "fictionals" to come and receive medical attention.

Unfortunately, at this stage, it's still only an idea, so I will need assistance. Should I start this practice, I naturally cannot be the only physician available, so I'm reaching out to you, to hopefully begin some sort of network of doctors and physicians. Is there anyone among us who might be interested in joining me?

[Creedy is sitting on a hospital bed. staring at the phone in his hands. Give him a few minutes. Tutorial aside it's been a long long time since he's seen one of these and even when he had seen them he never really had much use for them.]

It has been a long time since I saw one of these. Cell phones. How do you keep the towers from burning down? How is any of this still standing? 

Sorry. Questions. It's just this is not exactly what I was expecting the afterlife to look like. It sure isn't hell.  I've seen close to that. Wouldn' call it quite Heaven either.

Who would 'ave thought purgatory would 'ave beaches?

Still more believable than any thing else I've heard here. I'm holdin' judgement til I get alcohol. Do they have alcohol in the 'real' world? 

Look. I appreciate the lies, but the truth of the matter is I'm dead. I know I am. I can still-

[He stops and shakes his head before offering a smile to the camera.]

Who wants to show a ghost to a pub? You've got whole bloody buildings here. One of them has to 'ave alcohol in it.