The Blue Lion

[jammi]

"That'd be Mr Sullivan, Sar'nt. James Sullivan." He double tapped the bar top and a menu shimmered into sight. Pinching it with his index and forefinger, he span it around and pushed it towards the bar stools in case Sian wanted to come and look. "No Rheinland imports at the current time, I'm afraid."

Pointing to each menu section in turn he ran through the selection. "Got the best of Bretonian breweries though - Gin and Stout from New London, cider, bitter and spirits from Cambridge. Whisky from Graves that by all account tastes like pig swill, but you lot seem to like it. We do a fair cocktail as well. Nothing fancy like you'd get on Waterloo, but good enough to pass the time."

He snapped his fingers remembering something. "Oh, doubt you lot'll be interested but a Universal freighter stopped by a few days ago and delivered our order of Libertonian stock. Ale mostly. Liberty Ale, Freedom Brew, Eagle Sauce. All the usual pisswater they like out there."