BelchFire Posted February 15, 2004 Report Posted February 15, 2004 (edited) Somewhere off to the side of the raucous Cabaret, in a dim corner, is a narrow hallway leading off to another, lesser known part of the Pen. At the end of the hallway, scarcely needed to conceal the dim flicker of firelight from beyond, is a pair of wooden swinging saloon doors, carved in high relief with quills, the masks of drama, and the nine muses. Above the doorway hangs a small sign in black outlined gold-leaf that says simply: "Belchfire Cafe". Inside you find an intimate nook, which simultaneously has a dark ambience and a warm familiarity. There is a small kitchen window at the end where you can order a quick meal or something to drink, and at the other end is a spacious fireplace in which a low fire eternally burns. There are several outside windows along one wall, covered with heavy curtains through which only an indefinite twilight passes. Instead of the usual tables, scattered around the room are sofas, high back chairs, and even an area of enormous pillows to lay on. The back wall is covered with book shelves, from which any manner of reading may be drawn. More than a place to simply eat or drink, the Belchfire is a place of atmosphere and character, a place to create an entire mood, as well as partake of the full experience of those you share the space with. The weather that seeps through the thick curtains often reflects the mood of the current speaker, the fire has been known to raise and lower with the spirits of the room, and an enchanted calliope stands unobtrusively in a corner, often eerily echoing the emotions of whatever narration is taking place in musical background, with the sounds of everything from a full orchestra to a banjo and a kazoo, or even the trill of evening birds. So feel free to come on in and make yourself comfortable. Feel free to enjoy the words of those around you - and to share your own. This is the place to hear, and to be heard. Welcome. Edited February 15, 2004 by BelchFire
Sorciere Posted February 15, 2004 Report Posted February 15, 2004 *Sorciere strolls down the long corridor, the flickering of firelight under the door attracting her attention. Pushing open the rather heavy ornate entrance quietly, she peeks into the lavish room. Spying a large purple floor cushion in the corner of her eye and feeling the glorious warmth of the fire, a tired Sorciere strolls towards the inviting scene and curls up quietly atop the cushion, her eyes scanning the myriad of books along the wall.* Ohhh what a wonderfully welcoming place!
Savage Dragon Posted February 15, 2004 Report Posted February 15, 2004 SavageDragon walks into the warm but somber place. A few pen members sit in lounge chairs, some at the bar, and a few of the older member lie napping on the pillows. Hanging his bowler hat on the coat rack and his trench coat on the hat rack, he stumbles over to the bar and raises a hand to the bartender. After watching three glasses go sliding by off the table, SavageDragon's drink is placed firmly in front of him where he can calmly question the universe, his love life, and how watered down is the whiskey. He raises his glass in salute to the queen, he's not sure which, and promptly finds himself sitting on the floor empty shot glass still in hand. The bartender, who has been spending his free time swirling a towel in circles on the bar for no apparent reason, shakes his head and calmly explains to SavageDragon that he has had enough to drink. "Something troubling you, friend?" he asks kindly. Making sure he fills his quota of times he must pretend to be interested in the lives of these drunken people. "Troubling? Why no, no, no" he replies glancing off in the direction of... well he wasn't really certain, his eyesight was acting funny. The bartender is ready to leave it at that, his quota filled for the moment and he resumes his spinning of the towel. Apparently SavageDragon was not ready to leave it at that and he stumbles along, tripping many times. "Well, I hardly no where to begin," He says, "but then again, I hardly no when to stop either, just give me another drink and I’ll show you" This is followed by the sound of a glass bottle breaking on top of SavageDragon's head, thrown by Groucho Marx for stealing his line, who then walks out the door, grabbing his hat from the beret rack. SavageDragon, surprised to find himself on the floor again, this time with no empty shot glass, slowly pulls himself back onto his stool. Seeing that the bartender has moved from spinning his towel in circles to rubbing a clean glass with a dirty rag, he recognizes his cue to be silent and proceeds to slouch over asleep on the bar, snoring. :dragon4:
WrenWind Posted February 15, 2004 Report Posted February 15, 2004 purple silk pillows patchuli and willow fragrant excess subtle soft lighting nothing too frightening comfort to think friends all good company talk in quiet symphony relax and enjoy *Wren steps back into the corner with a smile*
Gwaihir Posted February 15, 2004 Report Posted February 15, 2004 Gwaihir could appreciate comfortable taverns as well as the next man, but he rarely heard about them. Also, he had learned the hard way that he didn't tend to do well around any group of people or anything made of glass. So, he didn't even think of coming to the Belchfire. However, he did think of pruning the bushes that grew on the outside of the pen. Many of them had grown on their own and this area of the perimeter of the keep didn't tend to get much attention and they had grown huge. He smiled to himself and knew that he had his work cut out for him. This bush, for instance. It was not going to do well next spring if it was allowed to go on like this. He walked around it, snipping here and there. But oh, that part up there was terrible, much too tall and a waste of energy. It certainly had to go, but it was beyond the reach of even a tall elf. Well, it was only a few inches beyond his reach, but he wanted to be able to examine the area and decide what was indeed the best place to snip. It was time to clamber up. He remembered to tuck his shirt in this time before he started climbing. Last time he hadn't and it had ended up in his getting stuck in a large branch. An awkward leg slid down a branch and he slipped a bit. And caught himself, but an eager young stick protruded a foot or so up his ankle and into his pants. He shook his leg... maybe a bit too vigorously, because the next thing anyone was sure of was a loud crash and tinkle. A large elf came tumbling in the window of the Belchfire. He rolled as he fell in, because somewhere he'd heard that was a good way to fall. He probably knocked himself out for a minute, because when he came to his head was under a table. "It's dark down here" he muttered, but then he saw the tablecloth and poked his head towards it. *shriek!* "Someone just put his head up my dress!" Suddenly the mood was utterly shot and Sorciere's reading was welll and truly disturbed. The flames jumped up and so did a lady in a blue dress with a fringe. She picked up her chair and began to bash the unfortunate elf. "I feel like Wyvern" he muttered.
BelchFire Posted February 15, 2004 Author Report Posted February 15, 2004 (edited) After poor Sorciere had thoroughly clobbered the bumbling Gwaihir, and the window had been magically restored and the mess cleaned up, peace once again fell upon the Café, due no doubt to the lingering effects of WrenWind’s lovely poem. Patchouli and willow faintly lingered just beyond the attention of the room. Nursing his bruises and his bad luck Gwaihir wandered over to the bar to sit next to SavageDragon, who tried to diplomatically edge away even in his alcohol induced stupor. Noticing his long face, a buxom young maiden, the daughter of the barkeep who usually minded the coffee bar, sat down next to him, then scooted closer. When she had caught his eye and he turned to look at her she layed upon him a fifty megaton smile. Gwaihir took a deep swim in the pools of her eyes. “Let me make you a coffee. It will make you feel better,” she said, insinuating her hand under his. Gwaihir felt better already. Elsewhere in the Café, a lone half-dwarf played idly with a wooden flute. Sitting on a wooden stool along the wall his melancholy was palpable, made only more evident by the lonely haunting tune he began to play. As he played, each somber note following the next, an intense sadness began to grip the room, and a hush fell. Everyone who heard the song began to think of his or her own past pains, turning inward in the embrace of the beautiful sadness wrought by his song. Outside, a lone boom of thunder rolled, long and rumbling. For a moment, it seemed the whole world had turned gray, and then the dwarf put the flute in his lap, and he spoke in a slow, rambling free verse: “All those years, were a labor of love but then I lost what should've been found Shame, shame, shame I'm so ashamed Our lives collided like two trains on the same track, our hearts a single twisted wreck. I knew what I had to do but I held out for you to change Shame, shame, shame I'm so ashamed I thought the trail could lay the mountain as today is tomorrow's yesterday as the night precedes the day. Falling down that hall of many doors I chose the manner of my destruction. Shame, shame, shame, I'm so ashamed. I can't think straight any more If I could only love without fear, and learn to learn without question. Now I watch as we get stranger defined by our independence from each other. Shame, shame, shame I'm so ashamed Now it seems the best thing I can do is grow up, and let you go as I should have... the moment I first loved you.” Edited February 15, 2004 by BelchFire
Wyvern Posted February 16, 2004 Report Posted February 16, 2004 A long moment of silence passes after Belchfire whispers the final lines of his melancholic poem, inspiring the audience with deep feelings of sadness as the scent of nightshade and wilted roses begins to linger in the room. The half-dwarf lightly brushes a half formed tear from his eyes and sadly turns to the audience in the Cafe, only to suddenly be met by a thunderous round of applause. Belchfire's eyes brighten and a gigantic smile slowly spreads across his face as applause roars throughout the room. The clouds rumbling thunder outdoors part to reveal a magnificent ray of sunshine, and birds begin to fly up to the window and cheerfully chirp in unison. Confetti begins falling from the ceiling as the crowd cheers praises and lifts Belchfire off of his feet, parading him triumphantly around the room. The song "Where Everybody Knows Your Name (the theme music from Cheers)" suddenly cues up in the background. "Making your way in the world today Takes everything you've got; Taking a break from all your worries Sure would help a lot. Wouldn't you like to get away?" Belchfire is paraded on top of the crowd, laughing happily and giving several high fives to people. At the window, an innocent deer stolls up and joins the birds that chirp there, snuggling his head against their feathers in a loving manner. "All those night when you've got no lights, The check is in the mail; And your little angel Hung the cat up by it's tail; And your third fiance didn't show;" Behind the counter at the bar, the barkeep cheerfully cleans out a glass and casts an enthusiastic smile, striking a thumbs up with her free hand. She then skillfully slides the clean glass over the counter, and it lands in a perfect lineup with the other clean glasses arranged there without taking the slightest scratch. "Sometimes you want to go Where everybody knows your name, And they're always glad you came; You want to be where you can see, Our troubles are all the same; You want to be where everybody knows your name." Gwaihir and the barkeep's buxom daughter put their arms around each others shoulders and each gives a thumbs up with their free hands, smiling and laughing in harmony. "Roll out of bed, Mr. Coffee's dead; The morning's looking bright; And your shrink ran off to Europe, And didn't even write; And your husband wants to be a girl;" From his position on the floor near an empty glass, SavageDragon briefly turns towards the crowd, sporting a bright smile and raising both of his hands in order to give two thumbs up. Sorciere kneels by his position and puts her right hand on one of his shoulders, turning her head, grinning, and making a thumbs up with her free hand. "Be glad there's one place in the world Where everybody knows your name, And they're always glad you came; You want to go where people know, People are all the same; You want to go where everybody knows your name." Belchfire is triumphantly set on top of a table by the crowd, and laughs and spins in slow motion as the colorful confetti rains down upon him and the crowd continues to cheer him on. The double doors of the Cafe swing open and Wyvern cheerfully dances in, hopping along happily and laughing with the others. The crowd and Belchfire cheer as they notice that the ecstatic lizard has a giftwrapped parchment with him as a housewarming present. "Where everybody knows your name, And they're always glad you came; Where everybody knows your name, And they're always glad you came;" Belchfire joyfully tears open the giftwrapping and unravels the parchment, which reads: EVICTION NOTICE The music stops and Belchfire's jaw drops as he reads the parchment over. The entire crowd immediatly turns glum and depressed, with the exception of Wyvern who continues to dance happily about as he tapes "Almost Dragonic Property" signs on the walls. Outdoors, the innocent deer is shot at and falls dead, getting branded with a price tag afterwards. The two birds sitting there are suddenly carried away by a strong gust of wind, which eventually evolves into a tornado. Belchfire stands and stutters as several bulking men dressed in black enter the room and begin measuring the furniture in order to carry it away. "B-b-b-but-" stammers Belchfire, his eyes slowly widening. "You can't evict us yet! Why, we haven't even gone on for a single season!" "Oh yeah?" hisses Wyvern gleefully, whipping out several extremely long parchments detailing legal actions and spinning them around Belchfire like mummywrap. "This new spot is definitely profiteable, so good luck trying to convince me otherwise!" ;-)
The Portrait of Zool Posted February 17, 2004 Report Posted February 17, 2004 (OOC: I am glad to see Conservatory style RP is not dead Wyvern. I applaud you. ) Everyone stood aghast at Wyvern's proclamation. Wyvern in turn grinned an oily grin and acted the part of someone who was just moving in, but in reverse. "Oh! And take that over there, and that.. and Oh yes, that large purple cushion looks expensive - out the door with it!" The thumping of Sorciere's assets hitting the floor was little compared to the sound of BelchFire's, but even that was drowned out by the collective dissension of the surrounding crowd. "How can you do this?!" an incredulous voice challenged, echoed by several muttered assents. "Well," said Wyvern, turning back to BelchFire and yanking on the parchment wrapped around him to spin him around like a top, "It says here, here, here, and oh! here here here..." The lizard appeared to the frustrated patrons to be pointing at random sections of parchment, which was spinning on the hapless form of BelchFire too fast to be read anyway, but Wyvern continued undeterred. "You know, it says pretty much everywhere after the words 'Wyvern's Rules' at the top that anything that is profitable in the Pen is mine, all mine! Isn't it GREAT!" Wyvern spread his arms in delight and grinned a fully toothed grin. His huge grin was met with... silence... that is until BelchFire spun into some chairs and went down with a crash. Everyone rushed to his aid. Outside, the breeze suddenly picked up and began to whip the branches of the trees from side to side, the clouds growing thicker and darker. The animals began to seek shelter... The huge purple cushion was snatched from the hulking men dressed in black. Before the semi-conscious BelchFire could be layed onto it, the men, helped by Wyvern, lunged to snatch it back. What ensued next was a massive tug of war between Wyvern and his thugs and every patron in the BelchFire. Outside, lightning arced across the sky in a massive boom of thunder. The south winds came, the north winds came, and in the middle was such a howl of boiling black clouds that anyone outside ran indoors for their life - but this went practically unnoticed in the BelchFire in the heat of the struggle. "You have no right!" someone shouted - and later witnesses would agree that was when the real trouble started, when a fat rotten tomato cought Wyvern right in the snout! "AGH!" exclaimed an indignant and grossed-out Wyvern. "All right, I didn't want to do this," hissed the almost-dragon, still tugging with all his might on the big purple cushion, "But I hereby put a lean on all the holdings of everyone here, Teehee!" Wyvern suddenly found himself under the cushion as everyone rushed him and his thugs. Now he was pulling with all of his might to keep the cushion between him and his attackers. A scream suddenly cut through the huffing and puffing of the scuffle as one of Wyvern's hulking men was pulled into the throng and pummeled mercilessly. "They got Joe, they got Joe!" cried Wyvern's remaining thug. Outside, the clouds cut loose. Driven by the keening wind, the driving rain was searingly illuminated in a blaze of glittering shinies by the angry bolts of lightning that churned in the bowels of the clouds. Just when it seemed things couldn't get worse, a gnome with long gray beard and a pointed rainbow colored hat came running in, and shouted. "Where's that over-grown lizard? He shot Bambi!" "Uh-oh," said Wyvern, still cowering under the fold of the huge pillow. Then it came. Thundering like a herd of steam locomotives, the ground shook and the air screamed as a massive tornado came and tore the Belchfire out of the Keep of the Pen is Mightier than the Sword and catapulted it into the sky. "AAAAAAAUUUGGG!!" Everyone screamed as they were tossed willy nilly around the room, but could hardly be heard against the shriek of the wind and the panicked banging of the colliape. The cushion, the eviction and the leans were all forgotten as everyone fought for survival. The fire disappeared at it was sucked out the chimney. The windows all blew out, sucking out the curtains with them. The salloon doors flapped back and forth violently. People swam, jostled, and crashed in the maelstrom of pillows, chairs, books, and the occasional tossed salad. Outside in the boiling angry clouds was a simular scene. Trees, animals, a farmer milking a cow, and an almost-lizard riding a huge purple cushion could be seen outside flying through the storm. Even the Picture of Zool was seen spinning through the maelstrom, air sickness bag pressed tightly beneath his rolling eyes. BelchFire tried to play a calming tune on his flute, but the tornado sucked the wind out of it and he couldn't make a sound. Then an idea came to him. "OKAY EVERYONE," he shouted in his boomiest booming voice, "GROUP HUG!!" Then the whole room came together in the huggiest group hug that ever grouped a hug. The rocking of the room was immediately less evident. Then the howling of the wind dropped precipitously. Then the room began to fall... "KEEP IT UP EVERYONE!" boomed BelchFIre again. "WE'VE GOT TO FEEL THE LOVE NOW - FEEEEL THE LOVE!!!" Everybody hugged everybody else. The room began to glow with an eerie golden light, which got brighter,as they fell faster... and brighter, as they fell faster... and brighter... "We're all gonna die!!" screamed the strange gnome, covering his head with his arms. And then there was a tremendous **FLASH**. Everyone looked around. Everything was back the way it had been. The BelchFire was sound, and back in the Keep of the Pen. The furniture, the fire, the curtains, the dark ambeince and warm familiarity were all back. The only thing missing was Wyvern. Everyone looked around, not asking the same question, when they all heard a faint sound... "MmMmmph... MMmmmph.." Curiosity of the strange muffled sounds turned to concern. "I think it's coming from outside!" said BelchFire as he ran out the door followed by all the BelchFire patrons and through the Cabaret to reach the courtyard outside the Cafe. Sticking out from under the walls of the newly reestablished BelchFire Cafe were two almost-dragonic legs. "Oooh, that HAD to hurt!" said WrenWind, wincing at the sight. "Pretty shoes though." "Ding-dong! The witch is dead!" sang the gnome, who was immediately silenced by a look from BelchFire. The legs twitched weakly. "MMM! MMMPH!" Wyvern said from underneath. Working together, it was only a moment and they were able to pull Wyvern out from under the building, and he never spoke of evicting the BelchFire again, because whenever he began to think about it a small but dark and threatening thundercloud mysteriously appeared over his head.
Sorciere Posted February 17, 2004 Report Posted February 17, 2004 *Sorciere walks over to the wall of books and selects an ancient looking biography on a troll called 'Snorglebeb' and settles back onto her beautiful purple cushion. Glancing briefly over the top of the pages she looks at Wyvern and sighs. Mumbling some incoherant bad words to herself, she returns to her story.*
WrenWind Posted February 17, 2004 Report Posted February 17, 2004 (edited) Wren brushes off the crumpled purple pillow the popped out with Wyvern, fluffs it up and tucks it behind Sorciere with a smile. Now I think I had better untangle this mess. Sorciere looks up to see Wren's hair sticking straight up in the air in the reverse shape of a tornado. Dancing with the child The wind blows in wild chaos Enchanted laughter Wren giggles softly as she walks out of the room. Edited February 17, 2004 by WrenWind
Savage Dragon Posted February 17, 2004 Report Posted February 17, 2004 SavageDragon stumbles back to the bar; sitting down on a stool, only to discover the stool has been replaced by a large cactus somehow during the middle of the storm. Shrugging it off he moves to the stool next to it, only to move again when this one starts complaining. He asks for another shot and is denied again by the bartender. Calmly and coolly, he considers his options before rising from his seat and screaming, "EVERYBODY DOWN!!" Everybody still being a little jumpy instantly hits the floor, and SavageDragon reaches over the bar and pulls down a large bottle of liquor. Everyone slowly gets back up from the floor and glowers at SavageDragon, but the glowers bounce harmlessly off the bar, for SavageDragon has already found himself on the floor again. Once back on the stool, he sees the bartender holding out one hand and politely tapping the floor with his foot. Reaching into his coat pocket, SavageDragon pulls out a small duck and says (Wait for it).... "Put it on my Bill" The bartender takes the duck and hands him back two sparrows, his change, which SavageDragon drops in a hat by Wyvern who now holds a sign that says, "Will evict for food" :dragon4:
dragonqueen Posted February 18, 2004 Report Posted February 18, 2004 Dragonqueen strolls into the room, accidently walking into the wall before correctly entering through the doorway. Rubbing her forehead, she glances around the cozy little room. She heads for the kitchenish area, and mumbles something that sounds vaguely like "Chocolate coffee." While waiting for her drink, Dragonqueen peruses the shelves lining the wall and selects a volume of poetry that looks like it could potentially be interesting. Picking up her drink and seeing that it is indeed a mocha, Dragonqueen settles down on a lovely soft sofa. Book in one hand and coffee in the other, she alternately reads and sips coffee. This is a wonderful combination of the two best things in life, books and coffee. Dragonqueen thinks what a wonderful place this cafe is, so warm and comfy. Attemtping to express her gratitude to the owner of the cafe, Dragonqueen blinks and mumbles "Coffee...books...good..." She trails off into silence, having forgotten what she was talking about. Shrugging she turns back to her book and hot coffee. Hot mocha coffee. Delicious leatherbound books. Heaven here on earth.
BelchFire Posted February 19, 2004 Author Report Posted February 19, 2004 Only somewhat disheveled after the 'eviction' incident, BelchFire was gratified to see things return to normal. His heart warmed at the spontaneous Haikus the patron's so eloquently spoke, and sank into the blissful moment of them. Reflecting on that, an old song crept up from his memmory called 'Just for a Moment'. Ordinarily he kept that sort of thing out of the Cafe, but it just seemed appropriate now. He couldn't help but think of the words; We laughed Until we had to cry And we loved Right down to our last good bye We would not fail I think we let it be Just you and me For just a moment We chased That dream we never found And sometimes We let one and other down But the love we made Made everything alright We shone so bright For just a moment Time goes on People touch And they're gone And you and I Will never love again Like we did then Someday when we both reminice We'll both say There wasn't too much to need And through the tears We'll smile when we recall We had it all For just a moment Time goes on People touch And then they're gone But You and I Will never really end We'll never love again Like we did then We laughed Until we had to cry And we loved Right down to our last goodbye Good bye *David Foster-For just a moment*
Savage Dragon Posted February 21, 2004 Report Posted February 21, 2004 Savage Dragon claps and "Hurrahs" a couple of times. Splendidly performed. This cafe was turning out to be quite a success. If ever there was a post to be stickied this was it. Where was amangment anyhow, they should have stickied it by now? Oh they probably were all scared to come in here after what happened to the last elder. Cou--Wyvern--ugh
Savage Dragon Posted March 4, 2004 Report Posted March 4, 2004 Savage Dragon had it again.... that funny feeling that.... He spun around. "Dang it," he said, "There he is again." he slammed his fists on the bar. “Ugh, that guy gives me the willies” “What guy?” asked the bartender, raising his eyebrows in a quizzical manner. “That guy over there,” Savage Dragon said, motioning with his shoulder. The bartender looked up to see a man sitting at a corner table, all alone, smoking a pipe and looking over assorted papers on the table in front of him. The bartender tried to see the man’s face, but he wore a cloak with the hood up. His face was masked in shadow, totally invisible. “I don’t recognize him,” he said raising his eyebrows even higher, “what’s his name?” “His name? Nobody knows…. He’s called the anonymous member. Every time I come here, he’s always there, watching us, making some posts, but never shows his face.” “How odd” “If you raise those eyebrows any higher, they’re going to fall off. Whoever that man is, he’ll always be here, watching… I’d be surprised if he ever showed himself.” :dragon4:
Sorciere Posted March 7, 2004 Report Posted March 7, 2004 *Sorciere gets up from her purple cushion and walks towards one of the large windows. Staring out at the coldness from the warmth of the room, she recites. In little more than a whisper: Weighted is my heart This dreary day won't end Despite all that I've said My love, to you, I send. Forgive me for the pain But understand my need I never want to hurt you My heart, for you, will bleed. With a heavy sigh, Sorciere retreats from the window and exits the cafe, a small tear running down her left cheek.
purple_shadows Posted March 8, 2004 Report Posted March 8, 2004 Purple_Shadows wanders into the cafe covered in dust and looking a little out of sorts. She pulls a piece of debris out of her hair and examines it groogily, "Where on earth?" Compleately oblivious about the events surrounding the eviction as she had been asleep in an allyway for several days, she drifts over to a nice pile of sanguine coloured cushions to sit and gather her thoughts. Unfourtunately she is of the clumsy variety and often times you will find her tripping over nothing in particular, unless it's a chessboard, and there just happened to be a chessboard between her and her ideal cusion. Sighing, she resigns herself to the cusion behind her, and slumps akwardly to the ground. With not much better to do, and her thoughts having been interupped by the chessboard dilemma, she pulls her rat companion from her pocket, and they begin to play.
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