[Michael]

((I so have permission for this, I swear. >.>; ))

Rem sighed, hefting his armload of groceries on his way back toward the inn, moving to shove the door open with a foot. He only stumbled a second- catching himself on the door-frame with a grin of triumph and an 'Oomf'. "S'cuse me Ma'am, sir." He squeezed past the two by the door, trying not to topple his purchases. Seemed there'd been enough people to munch up the food, and not enough to actually shove into the beds. It left his bar dirty and his rooms over warmed- but that wasn't so bad. Just put a damper in his wood. Needed to go cut some, now that he thought about it..

"Roit, firs' fing's firs'." He lightly growled to himself, grinning as he slipped his way in with a whistle. He'd been out all day getting new supplies- his arms filled with bags and baskets. Needed to think about getting a cart..It would have been easier if he hadn't lost his usual delivery boy to the front lines. He frowned, looking about on his way back to the kitchen. No use complaining about it though, he supposed. He had raised an eyebrow at the lad who apparently had been helping himself to his cellar. He'd know that smell anywhere- and it had nothing to do with the ears on his head.

"Roit, y'lot- " he glanced around, pushing his bags up onto the counter. Hmm..needed a scrubbing..he really hadn't been paying attention the past few had he?

"Oi just want'cha awl t' know, Me rooms are clean, an as much as Oi loik the courtesy 'a not rumplin' the sheets..it is okay t' sleep in 'em. Just don' set fire ta anyfink, an we'll be awhlroit, roit?" He grinned, turning around to cross his arms and actually take a look over the place. Tables needed fixing up, bar needed a scrub, and the floor was starting to look dustier than the road..."Oi'm gonna put awhl this away- anyone needs me, Oi'm gonna be back in the kitchen." He called, taking one last glance and pause to be certain he wasn't needed for a while. could never know, with people leaving and arriving as quickly as they seemed to do now that the war was on.

---
Michael woke with a groan, rolling over and over in the bed he'd claimed, in the room he'd obviously stolen for his own- with a few extra amenities he'd stolen to go along with it. Hey, blankets and pillows in a cabinet were free game, right? Well, he wasn't asking. He blinked, squinting around. What time was it? How long had he slept? Well, a man who could sleep sixteen hours straight didn't really get to ask those sorts of questions and really be concerned. Thank GOD he wasn't in charge of the place anymore. Yes, his small spat with responsibility had made him paranoid as hell. He so didn't feel like doing it again, and not soon.

He stumbled out of bed, rolling his feet on the floor as he drug his clothes back on- would need to go buy some..if he was going to squat in one of the inn's rooms, he'd need clothes to do it properly. Eh..later time, later problem. Practically falling down the stairs, he wandered his way through the bar and into the kitchen, utterly ignoring the green haired man on his way to pluck up a meat pie from earlier in the day, along with a large mug- swaying on the spot as he heated water and mixed sugar into it, taking his pilfered goods to a table to sit down; and promptly fall asleep with his 'haul' on either side of his head. He never did wake up well..