[PQ] baker's dozen [seasonal event]

Jorseval You can dunk me in the river, gonna clean my sin But you might as well dunk me in a bucket of gin So buildings… Jory wasn’t super into them, as a concept, but they sometimes held two of the things he was quite keen on: a drink and warm place to stick his dick. Today, that was enough enticement to bring him out of the trees and into civilization. Well…. “civilization” He’d found no one at the makeshift pub—to serve him alcohol or to get off with—presumably because it was still so early in the day. He’d never understand why people never seemed to think that those were activities appropriate to mornings. Jory could hardly think of a better way to start a day. Regardless, he was now in the middle of the Settlement so he might as well find something to make it worth his while. The librarian was poking around the old bakery, one he had definitely tried to filch from back as a ragamuffin kid. It hadn’t been in operation since he’d been a raggafuffin adult but he remembered the delightful smells that had seeped out of it in years prior. Jory ambled in, pushing past the hulking man at the door and into the place like his usual whirlwind of twitchy energy. He vaulted up to perch on a high piece of rickety old furniture and sent a wide grin at Amalia. "Good morning, Chickadee, long time no see. Who’s grumpface over here? " He asked, jabbing a thumb towards the man at the door. He didn’t quite wait for a response before looking around the room again with a low hum. "Hmmmm, bit dusty in here. You know, this place used to have the best sweetbreads? I once tried to nab one of the little buns right off the counter here but the ol’ lady caught me. Gods, she gave me such a telling off I think my ears were sore for weeks. Not quite that nice anymore, what’re you doing poking around?" He didn’t so much as take a breath throughout the whole of it and only looks around at Amalia again once he’d finished.