- RP Date
- YE 45.7
- RP Location
- Kyoto
Kyoto
River District
"Nameless" Speakeasy
The crisp autumnal air worked tirelessly at pulling at the stark red leaves, yearning to take them from the maple trees on the street that Alastair had been sent to. A few of the yellow and orange leaves floating along the Ketsurui River nearby caught the fading light. Those on this building-lined street had to be on the top of the tree branches to hope to be set ablaze by the sunset. The shadowed leaves trembled on their stems outside of the speakeasy's verdant entrance. Down a few steps off the sidewalk and inside the green door, there was a welcome warmth that sloughed off the settling cool dusk of fall from one's shoulders and heated them like a coal put back in the fire.
A golden glow emanated from antique oil lamps and was magnified by the glittering crystals that hung from them. Not much light was being reflected in here , though, as the mirrors had a dark smokey bronze tint that matched the patterned brass ceilings. The heat was instead palpable from the fervor of those within the establishment. A Delsaurian bouncer sat just inside the doorway, asking to see IDs before patrons hung up coats and stowed umbrellas behind his toothy swaying tail. Private booths lined either side of the long hallway that led away from the front door. The quiet murmur of indistinguishable conversations were muted by the thick tapestries that separated the booths from the hallway.
Asuka had already found one such compartment and had taken up on one of the two love seats within it. A sparkling affair, her dress was as emerald in color as the door of the whole establishment. The hue brought out the green in her eyes and contrasted distinctly with her curls of flame-like orange hair. She was easy to spot not just because of her jewel toned silhouette but also because out of the occupied compartments only hers had a parted tapestry that allowed one walking past it to see in. What they would see was the sensors operator prostrated on the velvet couch within as if she were alone at home stretching out rather than at a hideaway bar. She was swept back as if consumed with either fatigue or boredom as a full tumbler teetered precariously like a weight on a scale that was levered by her freckled, limp wrist.
River District
"Nameless" Speakeasy
The crisp autumnal air worked tirelessly at pulling at the stark red leaves, yearning to take them from the maple trees on the street that Alastair had been sent to. A few of the yellow and orange leaves floating along the Ketsurui River nearby caught the fading light. Those on this building-lined street had to be on the top of the tree branches to hope to be set ablaze by the sunset. The shadowed leaves trembled on their stems outside of the speakeasy's verdant entrance. Down a few steps off the sidewalk and inside the green door, there was a welcome warmth that sloughed off the settling cool dusk of fall from one's shoulders and heated them like a coal put back in the fire.
A golden glow emanated from antique oil lamps and was magnified by the glittering crystals that hung from them. Not much light was being reflected in here , though, as the mirrors had a dark smokey bronze tint that matched the patterned brass ceilings. The heat was instead palpable from the fervor of those within the establishment. A Delsaurian bouncer sat just inside the doorway, asking to see IDs before patrons hung up coats and stowed umbrellas behind his toothy swaying tail. Private booths lined either side of the long hallway that led away from the front door. The quiet murmur of indistinguishable conversations were muted by the thick tapestries that separated the booths from the hallway.
Asuka had already found one such compartment and had taken up on one of the two love seats within it. A sparkling affair, her dress was as emerald in color as the door of the whole establishment. The hue brought out the green in her eyes and contrasted distinctly with her curls of flame-like orange hair. She was easy to spot not just because of her jewel toned silhouette but also because out of the occupied compartments only hers had a parted tapestry that allowed one walking past it to see in. What they would see was the sensors operator prostrated on the velvet couch within as if she were alone at home stretching out rather than at a hideaway bar. She was swept back as if consumed with either fatigue or boredom as a full tumbler teetered precariously like a weight on a scale that was levered by her freckled, limp wrist.