4th Spring, 515 A.V.
The Obsidian Club
The band today had a deep bass rhythm, a real soulful kind of beat. The singer was a bearded older fellow who worked as a wagoner of tea leaves from the outlying Sharai fields when not performing. His face and his skin was like a wrap of sun dried leather, though his voice was deep and passionate, with a soul that spoke to the individual. Naia and Rynas both liked the band because they were all mellow fellows who didn’t cause any trouble and seemed to genuinely perform for the sake of making people happy, rather than the somewhat stingy rates that Deniss and his friends paid their performers.
Benji listened to the lyrics as he rubbed the smudges from a few glasses. It was the lull just after Midnight Rest that he and Rynas used to tidy up the bar before the big rush. Mostly Rynas liked to work in relative silence when cleaning up. He had a system about it and fell into a trace-like mechanism that Benji learned to just follow. That is what they had been doing for the better part of a bell when Rynas hailed him casually.
“Witt, come here and let’s see what you’ve learned between the bottle and the bar.” The lean, foxish man said with a quick grin. He was, as always, the epitome of silky cool. The man seemed to never lose his composure, and it definitely added a layer of mystery to him that Benji knew the women appreciated.
The employee had no choice but the put down his rag and walk over to the older founder. “What’s up, boss?”
Rynas tapped the bar with a single index finger lightly. “Make me a Lava Peach.”
Benji blinked. “Uh, I don’t think Deniss wants us drinking on the job.”
A light slap hit him in the back of the head before he knew what it was. “I know that you petcher.” The exasperation was thick in the man’s soft voice. “I want to see if you have learned anything.”
“Right. A Lava Peach. Right.”
Benji thought about their menu in his head for a moment. For some reason his mind was working slowly. If a random customer were to order a Lava Peach he would have no problem figuring it out, but now that Rynas’ critical gaze was upon him he was distracted. Peach juice…obviously. Benji reached under the bar and produced from one of their ice boxes a pitcher of somewhat fresh peach juice.
His eyes flickered to where his employer’s were. Their gazes met for a brief moment and the man’s harsh eyebrow quivered. But Benji quickly turned back to their liquor selection. Rum maybe? Maybe it was rum. Gods, why did he have to blank right now! His hand moved forward to grab the rum, but as he did so an imprint of deja vu skittered through his mind’s eye. He had poured the same drink for a customer not two hours ago because Rynas was busy. And he had used whiskey. His let his hand move past the rum and close around the short, stout neck of the bottle of whiskey.
Rynas said nothing.
The Obsidian Club
The band today had a deep bass rhythm, a real soulful kind of beat. The singer was a bearded older fellow who worked as a wagoner of tea leaves from the outlying Sharai fields when not performing. His face and his skin was like a wrap of sun dried leather, though his voice was deep and passionate, with a soul that spoke to the individual. Naia and Rynas both liked the band because they were all mellow fellows who didn’t cause any trouble and seemed to genuinely perform for the sake of making people happy, rather than the somewhat stingy rates that Deniss and his friends paid their performers.
I spend my days working under the sun
towards the day I’m all but done.
Night skies, star rise
No, no, too tired for the moon lit run.
towards the day I’m all but done.
Night skies, star rise
No, no, too tired for the moon lit run.
Benji listened to the lyrics as he rubbed the smudges from a few glasses. It was the lull just after Midnight Rest that he and Rynas used to tidy up the bar before the big rush. Mostly Rynas liked to work in relative silence when cleaning up. He had a system about it and fell into a trace-like mechanism that Benji learned to just follow. That is what they had been doing for the better part of a bell when Rynas hailed him casually.
“Witt, come here and let’s see what you’ve learned between the bottle and the bar.” The lean, foxish man said with a quick grin. He was, as always, the epitome of silky cool. The man seemed to never lose his composure, and it definitely added a layer of mystery to him that Benji knew the women appreciated.
The employee had no choice but the put down his rag and walk over to the older founder. “What’s up, boss?”
Rynas tapped the bar with a single index finger lightly. “Make me a Lava Peach.”
Benji blinked. “Uh, I don’t think Deniss wants us drinking on the job.”
A light slap hit him in the back of the head before he knew what it was. “I know that you petcher.” The exasperation was thick in the man’s soft voice. “I want to see if you have learned anything.”
“Right. A Lava Peach. Right.”
Benji thought about their menu in his head for a moment. For some reason his mind was working slowly. If a random customer were to order a Lava Peach he would have no problem figuring it out, but now that Rynas’ critical gaze was upon him he was distracted. Peach juice…obviously. Benji reached under the bar and produced from one of their ice boxes a pitcher of somewhat fresh peach juice.
His eyes flickered to where his employer’s were. Their gazes met for a brief moment and the man’s harsh eyebrow quivered. But Benji quickly turned back to their liquor selection. Rum maybe? Maybe it was rum. Gods, why did he have to blank right now! His hand moved forward to grab the rum, but as he did so an imprint of deja vu skittered through his mind’s eye. He had poured the same drink for a customer not two hours ago because Rynas was busy. And he had used whiskey. His let his hand move past the rum and close around the short, stout neck of the bottle of whiskey.
Rynas said nothing.
