Silent Showers

The Wayward Stool (Open To Everyone, JUMP-INS WELCOME)

Raising his eyebrow at the lawyer again, the bartender began to wonder if he and his friends really understood where they were right now. From appearances, it seemed they assumed his bar was just another hidden away in whatever city they'd come from. An interesting but not uncommon occurrence.

"Well, I've had this place and run it for as long as anyone can rightly remember, myself included."

Turning to the young woman who looked as though she's been in a fight of some kind, the old man smiled reassuringly.

"Oh I don't think you're dead, not that the distinction between dead and alive means much here. Folks get to enjoy what we have to offer all the same."

Not one to keep a customer waiting longer than they had to, the bartender turned around and opened an old looking soda cooler. Browsing through the glass bottles lining the shelves, he found what he'd been looking for and quickly popped the cap off the bottle before handing it to Lucas.

Ding ding, chimed a bell behind the barkeep, prompting him to turn around and open a small chrome square door just below waist height. It looked like it belonged to a refrigerator, but inside was an order of chili cheese fries and onion rings. When he removed the pleasantly arranged baskets of food, one would find them generously portioned and a heavenly aroma wafted through the room; if you were into that sort of food.

"Here you are," he announced, setting the baskets in front of Vyn. "Please enjoy and I hope you find it to your liking."

It seemed he'd have plenty to do tonight. Just as he finished serving Vyn, another woman came through his door, this one looking better than the last one had.

"Welcome to the Wayward Stool, make yourself at home and let me know if you need anything," even as he greeted the new addition to the bar, the barkeep slipped a crystalline ashtray toward the woman with a cigarette. He should have done so sooner, how careless of him.

As requested, the man produced a small screwdriver from behind his counter, all the while picking out a chilled white wine for the woman. He set them both down in front of her, turning to make another call to his compatriot.

Ring ring, click. "Yes, hello again Erin. Something chocolaty this time, as much chocolate as you can get into it. Mhm, that's it, thank you love." Hanging up, the bartender returned his attention to the woman with her wine.

"I apologize, but it will take a bit of time for your order to be complete. I do assure you however that Erin makes a dessert worth waiting for."

@Zoey Boey
@Lady Selune
@SilverRain
@PrinceAlexus

The Wayward Stool (Open To Everyone, JUMP-INS WELCOME)

Alright ladies, gentlemen, and all other unspecified gender and/or identity preferences. I was busy over the weekend but will be getting caught up today.

Isekai Fantasy Slice of Life Harem Dumpster Fire (18+)

Shameful bump.

The Wayward Stool (Open To Everyone, JUMP-INS WELCOME)

Noting the short haired woman's approval with some satisfaction, the Bartender didn't protest as the woman took the bottle of bourbon for herself. He didn't take offense, in fact, he took another bottle from behind his bar's seemingly endless supply of things. Smiling politely at her, the man took the menu book and set it a few stools down, available for anyone who wished to take a look. Ever the good host, he nodded affirmative to the woman's request and picked up the receiver of a rather old looking phone that waited patiently behind him. "Spinning the dial a few times, the faint ringing of a bell could be heard from the device until someone on the other end of the line picked up. "Good evening Erin. Yes, that's right, it will be an order of chilli fries and onion rings. On no, quite the opposite this time, they would like a healthy portion of jalapenos. Thank you, you're always reliable. Have a good evening."

Setting the handset down gently, the bartender returned his attention to the short haired woman who introduced herself as Vyn. "It's a pleasure to meet you Vyn, your food should be ready and here in about fifteen or so minutes, my associate needs to make a fresh batch of fries and onion rings for you."

Now that he had satisfied his first customer, the Bartender turned his attention to the man who seemed to be all arms and legs, dressed in his fine tailored suit. Chuckling at the request, he turned around to looked through the shelves ponderously. Deciding, he plucked six bottles down from his left most cabinet, setting them out before Lucas. "While I understand the nature of your request, you may find that it can be quite subjective as to what constitutes a 'fine bottle' of wine. I've taken the liberty of picking a few that should hopefully please your pallet." He informed the man, all the wile taking his card out of politeness. Hearing the door slam open for the second time that night, the older man rose his eyebrow as he watched another woman who'd clearly seen better days stumble into the bar room.

"You don't look so good, young lady," Observed the man rather dryly. "Do you require aide of some sort? I can render assistance if that's what you need." In the mean time, he slid the book he'd given to Vyn and opened it up to let her browse through her drink options. "Free drinks indeed. Just find something you'd like and I'll get it for you."

Never one to miss a newcomer, the Bartender happened to spot the tabby cat wander in as the door slowly closed itself. Smiling to himself he filled a small saucer with the milk he'd used in Vyn's milkshake, setting it down on the floor at the end of the bar for the furry little guest. "Hello there, enjoy your stay and know you're safe here," he told the cat, scratching between it's ears.

@Lady Selune
@Zoey Boey
@SilverRain

The Wayward Stool (Open To Everyone, JUMP-INS WELCOME)

Yup, it's a place between worlds where anyone can come and kick their feet up.

The Wayward Stool (Open To Everyone, JUMP-INS WELCOME)

Busying himself with organizing his space, the tender glanced up and smiled at the first patron to approach the bar that night. They seemed to be a curious character, dressed in an impressively advanced suit of some kind which he knew not the origin of. As the woman took her seat in front of him, the bartender inclined his head toward her in greeting. "Welcome, we do indeed accept all kinds of folks from far flung places. We have quite an extensive collection, just about anything your heart desires in fact." The man shuffled under the bar for a moment before gently setting down a beautifully made menu book in front of the woman. Opening the book revealed a tastefully made list of the many drinks and cocktails available to thirsty travelers. Each turn of the page continued to unveil yet more options, each just as pleasing as the last. Flipping through the pages of the book would reveal that it went on and on, each page filled with endless delights. Foods, drinks, treats, snacks, and all manner of other edible goodies.

"An associate of ours, the Matron of the Wandering Inn, can prepare just about anything you can think of. We have a rule; your wish is our command. Ask and ye shall receive." Giving her time to comb through the endless options provided by the book, the bartender went about starting her milkshake, all the while taking notice of the three men who'd been largely silent up to now. It seemed as though the man in white was their ring leader, the other two his retainers; not an uncommon sight in his establishment. From behind the counter the man retrieved a large blender, a tub of ice cream, and a rather old fashion bottle of whole milk, setting them out in a way to let the woman watch him fulfill her request. As he scooped the ice cream into the blender and poured the milk the bartender took note of whispered conversation happening behind the woman, turning the oddly silent machine on so that he could face the newcomer.

"On your boss? That won't be necessary, friend. The Wayward Stool is very much a paid in full service to those who are fortunate enough to find it. Although, he's more than welcome to order and serve whomever he wishes should that be his desire." Turning back to the blender, the older man stopped the machine and set a fountain glass onto the counter and filled it to the brim with the thick vanilla shake. Not quite done yet, he produced a jigger from a line of bar implements and plucked a rather expensive looking bottle of bourbon, filling the hourglass shaped measuring tool before pouring it into the shake itself. To finish, he stirred it enough to get long streaks of the liquor but not fully incorporate it and topping it with hand whipped cream and a bright red cherry.

"Your shake, Miss, let me know when you decided upon something to eat." He informed the woman while politely returning his attention to the man who'd rung the bell. "Perhaps there's something I can get for you gentlemen? A drink, perhaps some food?"

@Lady Selune
@SilverRain

The Wayward Stool (Open To Everyone, JUMP-INS WELCOME)

Alright, @Lady Selune & @SilverRain, just got home from work and I should be able to reply for both of you soon.

The Wayward Stool (Open To Everyone, JUMP-INS WELCOME)

Hello! You're actually free to post in IC as you see fit. I don't require or really have a need for character sheets. It's as simple as making an introductory post with your character; I do this so anyone can drop a character in with minimal conflict in aesthetic or style.

Yup. The bartender and other characters will be their company.

The Wayward Stool (No Strings Attached Drop-in/Drop-Out Experiment)

---

Hello there, wandering souls. Welcome to the Wayward Stool, a place where you can rest your weary feet and have yourself a drink. There are no real demands of you here, that's why you found yourself in this rustic little bar of mine. The Wandering Stool is a space for the lost of soul who want to find a connection, be it short or long. You needn't be any one person, nor any discernible thing. My bar is where you end up when all you want to do is write, no questions asked. You can talk to the bar keep, you can nurse your drinks in a content silence and allow the slow jazz drifting through the air steal away your troubles like a butterfly on a warm summer breeze. That, is the Wayward Stool. If you give me and others enough to work with and effectively interact your character, then that's all you need to do. You don't need to make long, convoluted, detailed character sheets that will only occasionally be looked at once in a blue moon, the weight is in what you write and you're allowed to be as ambiguous of a person as you please. Think of it like looking through frosted glass, it's as opaque or clear as you make it. While I won't demand certain "standards" per-say, I will however request you keep it at the "casual" level of writing. You don't need to make a multiple dozens of paragraph posts but you should also strive for more than just few non-descriptive lines. Other than that, the Wayward Stool is your creative canvas, enjoy the freedom and simplicity of the setting and please don't go out of your way to drum up unnecessary drama. This is supposed to be a relaxing place!

You can find us right here, Stranger.

The Wayward Stool (Open To Everyone, JUMP-INS WELCOME)

Long day at work? That's not unusual, we all end up with days like those. From the construction site worker all the way to the suit and tie executive type; life can be hard on everyone. Couldn't sleep for some reason or another? That's fine, you've got a place here at the bar too, just gotta walk in through that door. The home life getting you down? I guess that's why you're here and not there on a night like this. Running from memories of the past? Chasing a future that's always at your fingertips but always just out of reach? Don't worry about those here, time stops it's relentless march in this humble little bar of mine. Stray cat that's just stopping in for a small bowl of milk and a good, long, nap? Heheh, don't worry your weary little whiskers, we'll take you too. This is the Wayward Stool, a place for those without direction or a refuge of their own. A pit stop for the lost souls that wander the streets, stepping between the lights in the endless darkness of a cold and lonely night. Come on in, warm your bones, and stay as long as you like.

You see it there, amidst the cold light of a street lamp on this particularly rainy and miserable night, the warm glow of a place you won't be alone. You're not quite sure why, but you just know that's where you're supposed to go. Looking up the way you were going only revealed to you more of the same dreary loneliness you'd already suffered from for far too long. Behind you, all the things you were running from at the start, waiting ever patiently for you to come back as they followed you no matter how far you went. Just across the street, nothing but the now familiar urban sprawl that loomed over you since your journey had begun. But, right here next to you, was an open invitation that you just couldn't pass up. So, instead of continuing your never ending march of isolation, you decide to take the plunge, you open that unlocked door and make your way inside.

Relief sets in as the tension from your aching muscles begins to ease, the warmth of dimly lit room seeps into your bones. The atmosphere around you is calm, quiet, with an oddly familiar sounding slow jazz tune drifting softly through the still air. The floors were a clean redwood, not quite polished but clearly maintained with an obvious touch of love. The walls from the floor to about a third of the way up were a darker hickory planning that gave way to plaster painted a soft tan. The ceiling was constructed of the same dark stained hickory as the paneling that framed the room, a domed rectangular skylight cut across most of the ceiling to reveal the rainy night sky above. Occasionally, the passing lights of a silent train danced through the bar, filtering in from the skylight above. The layout of the room was simple. In the furthest corner sat a small bar with a handful of stools and a white marble top, cushioned seats stretching across the wall behind the stools, chairs and tables set with lit candles to accommodate those without a seat at the bar. To the opposite end, was a long wooden bar top where drinks could be served and the ashtrays sat, allowing those who smoked to do their business while not disturbing those patrons who did not partake.

Taking this all in, your eyes eventually drift back to the small granite topped bar in the corner. Behind that bar stood a tall man, an older gentleman with long back hair slicked back and meticulously combed in a way as to be presentable. gracing his chin and cheeks were a well groomed and trimmed if not a little greying beard. He wore a fine white button up shirt tucked into tailored black slacks, sleeves rolled to his elbows as he busied himself with polishing his glass mugs. Over his shirt rested a black suit vest with a tasteful black silken tie tucked underneath. Now with your attention finally on him, the man gives you a warm smile and a nod of the head.

"Welcome, stranger, to the Wayward Stool."