Deep in space, a dark shape cut through the darkness. Illuminated by only its own lights and the faint glow of its exhaust, the vessel was alone in the void of space. Distant stars twinkled around it, but there were no nearby suns to bath the ship in light. It was alone, but only in the simplest definition of the word. For although this vessel was indeed without any nearby companions in space, the ship itself teemed with life and activity.

A flow of light jizz came from the group of musicians on the stage of the well-lit tavern. The classy establishment seemed itself to murmur, dozens of conversations and laughter blurring into a single pulse that mimicked the rhythm of the music. Well-placed lighting and warm colors gave the place a homey feel, while maintaining the class it was meant to cater to. Esteemed individuals, powerful men, women and aliens of the galaxy, all likes of businesspeople and members of families deeply seated in wealth flocked to this establishment. It was, perhaps, the one place in the galaxy, perhaps in the universe, where none of the cultural or territorial barriers mattered, where pleasure took the place of business, except, only, for those who could not bear to part with it for even a moment.

The tavern's light chatter and laughter seemed appropriate for the the establishment's atmosphere, with its warm colors and sleek design. While it occupied the former starfighter control bridge of the Venator-class starship, the entire deck had been carved out and opened up for the bar. It was one hundred meters in length, about twenty meters in breadth, and ten meters in height. The front of the tavern, closest to the ship's bow, opened up into a large section of windows that covered the entire front, sides and top in a half-geodesic dome shape for about ten meters. This area was elevated by a small step from the main floor, and dotted with tables excepting the first meter or so, which was left open for those to simply stand and gaze out the windows. A seating array with a couch and two armchairs had been set here as well, but they were rarely used.

On the port side of the tavern, just set back from the windows, another raised platform rose, this one decorated in the patterns and design of a stage. It was from here that the source of the jizz stemmed, and from time to time would be open to patrons to come and test their own skills at an instrument or voice. The stage was rimmed with lights and microphones that fed to speakers placed around the entire deck.

Further back on the same side, a large bar counter was set up, just across from the main lift that transported patrons to and from the Wandering Corellian. Several other ones dotted the sides of the tavern, stretching back to the furthest part, even having one up against the back wall. In the center of the entire deck, on the ground floor, the main bar counter was staffed by no less than five barkeeps to keep customers' drinks coming out quickly. Supplied by the kitchen just down one level, these bar counters worked hard to keep all of the customers satisfied and happy.

A few meters back from the front window area, on the starboard side, a large staircase led up to the loft of the establishment. It partially rimmed the front on both sides, open in the middle as far back as the first hints of the central bar counter, and then it extended back as a solid loft until the far back, where it opened again as a balcony, but with no stairs. The far back of the loft was closed off to most patrons, requiring an invitation to get inside, and most were obtained with large amounts of money or status. In the middle of the loft was a smaller version of the central bar counter that was featured downstairs, serving to the entire loft.

On the loft overlooking the front windowed area, an elderly gentleman sat, sipping a drink. His skin was a dark tone, nearly black, but his hair was the stark opposite of that, graying into a sheer white that contradicted its background. He wore a tailored suit that was made to fit loosely on his body, the shirt cuffs unbuttoned and the jacket draped over the back of his chair. He quietly sipped a drink, looking out the window, and listening contently to the jizz. It was perfect, for him at least. His retirement plan had worked out so well, and this was the fruits of his labor. He leaned back, and closed his eyes, satisfied.

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Avalon RP Topic

June 12, 2007, 06:25:45 pm

Deep in space, a dark shape cut through the darkness. Illuminated by only its own lights and the faint glow of its exhaust, the vessel was alone in the void of space. Distant stars twinkled around it, but there were no nearby suns to bath the ship in light. It was alone, but only in the simplest definition of the word. For although this vessel was indeed without any nearby companions in space, the ship itself teemed with life and activity.

A flow of light jizz came from the group of musicians on the stage of the well-lit tavern. The classy establishment seemed itself to murmur, dozens of conversations and laughter blurring into a single pulse that mimicked the rhythm of the music. Well-placed lighting and warm colors gave the place a homey feel, while maintaining the class it was meant to cater to. Esteemed individuals, powerful men, women and aliens of the galaxy, all likes of businesspeople and members of families deeply seated in wealth flocked to this establishment. It was, perhaps, the one place in the galaxy, perhaps in the universe, where none of the cultural or territorial barriers mattered, where pleasure took the place of business, except, only, for those who could not bear to part with it for even a moment.

The tavern's light chatter and laughter seemed appropriate for the the establishment's atmosphere, with its warm colors and sleek design. While it occupied the former starfighter control bridge of the Venator-class starship, the entire deck had been carved out and opened up for the bar. It was one hundred meters in length, about twenty meters in breadth, and ten meters in height. The front of the tavern, closest to the ship's bow, opened up into a large section of windows that covered the entire front, sides and top in a half-geodesic dome shape for about ten meters. This area was elevated by a small step from the main floor, and dotted with tables excepting the first meter or so, which was left open for those to simply stand and gaze out the windows. A seating array with a couch and two armchairs had been set here as well, but they were rarely used.

On the port side of the tavern, just set back from the windows, another raised platform rose, this one decorated in the patterns and design of a stage. It was from here that the source of the jizz stemmed, and from time to time would be open to patrons to come and test their own skills at an instrument or voice. The stage was rimmed with lights and microphones that fed to speakers placed around the entire deck.

Further back on the same side, a large bar counter was set up, just across from the main lift that transported patrons to and from the Wandering Corellian. Several other ones dotted the sides of the tavern, stretching back to the furthest part, even having one up against the back wall. In the center of the entire deck, on the ground floor, the main bar counter was staffed by no less than five barkeeps to keep customers' drinks coming out quickly. Supplied by the kitchen just down one level, these bar counters worked hard to keep all of the customers satisfied and happy.

A few meters back from the front window area, on the starboard side, a large staircase led up to the loft of the establishment. It partially rimmed the front on both sides, open in the middle as far back as the first hints of the central bar counter, and then it extended back as a solid loft until the far back, where it opened again as a balcony, but with no stairs. The far back of the loft was closed off to most patrons, requiring an invitation to get inside, and most were obtained with large amounts of money or status. In the middle of the loft was a smaller version of the central bar counter that was featured downstairs, serving to the entire loft.

On the loft overlooking the front windowed area, an elderly gentleman sat, sipping a drink. His skin was a dark tone, nearly black, but his hair was the stark opposite of that, graying into a sheer white that contradicted its background. He wore a tailored suit that was made to fit loosely on his body, the shirt cuffs unbuttoned and the jacket draped over the back of his chair. He quietly sipped a drink, looking out the window, and listening contently to the jizz. It was perfect, for him at least. His retirement plan had worked out so well, and this was the fruits of his labor. He leaned back, and closed his eyes, satisfied.

• Last Edit: June 19, 2007, 03:54:40 pm by The Insane Admin