Post by Arche on Apr 16, 2007 14:44:27 GMT -5
"NOT YET OPEN FOR BUSINESS"
...reads the sign in the window of the Crimson Rose Tavern. The rays of the evening sun enter the wide front windows of the bar at an angle, scattering the dark wood panel floor up front with the yellows and oranges of the growing twilight.
Arche, leaning idly on the bar, waves and smiles at some passerby looking in the window, clearly disappointed that the place is not open. The door isn't locked, but she wasn't ready to start serving drinks and such. No, she would not be opening until next week; she had only just put the finishing touches on the place.
Arche looks around at her work with a distinct sense of satisfaction. The whole place is done up in a dark red, almost black wood that gives the place a very cozy feel. Booths line the walls and tables fill the floorspace, and the bar is quite long and is lined with stools, of course. In the corner there is a small stage and a piano. The lighting is soft and moody, and combined with the subtle red of the wood, everything fairly glows with a inner warmth.
The only bad thing about the tavern is that it makes her think of home. It isn't a bad thing, really, but her thoughts are invariably turned her home back on the ground and the people there. Maybe it's only because the place is so cozy it feels like being home, and maybe customers would feel that way too. She hoped so.
Lost in thoughts like this, Arche grabs a cloth and starts wiping down the bar surface. There was still dust left over on many surfaces from the renovation she had carried out on this previously decrepit saloon. Unconsciously, she begins to hum a tune her mother had loved to hum or sing while working. Soon she begins to sing the words out loud as she continues to clean. Rather than the lyrics's subject matter, it is the somber and mesmerizing melody that makes it such an enticing tune.
I cursed them to hell as our bow fought the swell.
Our ship danced like a moth in the firelights.
White horses rode high as the devil passed by
Taking souls to Hades by twilight.
Five weeks out to sea we were now forty-three
Our comrades we buried each morning.
In our own slime we were lost in a time.
Endless night without dawning.
Oh I wish I was back home in Derry
Oh I wish I was back home in Derry
Though she doesn't usually have an accent, for some reason she has a slight Irish mode of diction while singing in her clear, animated voice. Arche cleans and sings, oblivious to the world around.
...reads the sign in the window of the Crimson Rose Tavern. The rays of the evening sun enter the wide front windows of the bar at an angle, scattering the dark wood panel floor up front with the yellows and oranges of the growing twilight.
Arche, leaning idly on the bar, waves and smiles at some passerby looking in the window, clearly disappointed that the place is not open. The door isn't locked, but she wasn't ready to start serving drinks and such. No, she would not be opening until next week; she had only just put the finishing touches on the place.
Arche looks around at her work with a distinct sense of satisfaction. The whole place is done up in a dark red, almost black wood that gives the place a very cozy feel. Booths line the walls and tables fill the floorspace, and the bar is quite long and is lined with stools, of course. In the corner there is a small stage and a piano. The lighting is soft and moody, and combined with the subtle red of the wood, everything fairly glows with a inner warmth.
The only bad thing about the tavern is that it makes her think of home. It isn't a bad thing, really, but her thoughts are invariably turned her home back on the ground and the people there. Maybe it's only because the place is so cozy it feels like being home, and maybe customers would feel that way too. She hoped so.
Lost in thoughts like this, Arche grabs a cloth and starts wiping down the bar surface. There was still dust left over on many surfaces from the renovation she had carried out on this previously decrepit saloon. Unconsciously, she begins to hum a tune her mother had loved to hum or sing while working. Soon she begins to sing the words out loud as she continues to clean. Rather than the lyrics's subject matter, it is the somber and mesmerizing melody that makes it such an enticing tune.
I cursed them to hell as our bow fought the swell.
Our ship danced like a moth in the firelights.
White horses rode high as the devil passed by
Taking souls to Hades by twilight.
Five weeks out to sea we were now forty-three
Our comrades we buried each morning.
In our own slime we were lost in a time.
Endless night without dawning.
Oh I wish I was back home in Derry
Oh I wish I was back home in Derry
Though she doesn't usually have an accent, for some reason she has a slight Irish mode of diction while singing in her clear, animated voice. Arche cleans and sings, oblivious to the world around.
)