Sylvain is more accustomed to being behind the bar most afternoons, but considering he's still sporting a number of bandages and still-healing wounds and bruises - not to mention his hands and forearms bound up like a mummy - Mags has shooed him away anytime he tried to do anything other than lift a mug or piece of silverware for himself.

Which has him making a face as he abandons the bar entirely, mug carefully held by bandaged fingers, and heads across towards one of the empty tables. And a figure working on some broken furniture that he doesn't recognize. He's really behind on catching up with new faces, having been gone so long and then stuck in the hospital in the aftermath.

"Need a hand?" he offers as he sinks down and then glances at his obviously bandaged fingers. "Uhh. That was probably a poor choice of words."