The Midnight Sun

"I am as prepared as I will ever be. See ya downstairs Roxy."

Presuming that Roxy would take the cards given her predisposition for them, Fenrir would head downstairs, and proceed over to the man with green hair. Fenrir still thought it was strange to have such wildly colored hair, figured the man thought himself to be some kind of joker . Human beings were so strange.

The green haired gentleman- who is still more or less unremarkable save for the pigmentation of his hair, doesn’t seem to give half a damn what Roxy or Fenrir think about his hair. His task is simple, and he’s being paid an awful lot of money to do it.

As the pair approach, he beckons, suggesting that they follow. Assuming that they do, he leads them over to and through the ‘Employees Only’ door just below the staircase leading to the upper floors. Beyond is a short hallway, paneled with plain wood, probably intended to serve as a sort of intermediary chamber. At the end of the short hallway, another, more or less identical door sits.

Approaching this second door, the green-haired gentleman grasps the handle, holding it in his hand for a few moments before turning it. As he does, the door opens of its own volition, revealing the space beyond.

The space beyond is what would seem to be the beginning of a spiral staircase. The walls shift from wood paneling to large stone bricks. On the outer wall, a sconce holding a torch is visible.

The man gestures to the stairs.

“Stairs,” he says, plainly.

Roy nodded, still somewhat distracted. Of course, he could trust Grandma. Grandma was just a nice old lady, nothing more. She knew what was good for him. She was smart.

"Alright, Grandma. Let's go..."

He followed her out, still somewhat overwhelmed by everything. All his newly-powered up senses were going into overdrive, and it was very nearly driving him crazy. Perhaps he'd get used to it after a little while. He had the first time, anyway.

Ashur would find the majority of the booths to be occupied. It’s a busy night, at peak hours, at that. Rowdy sorts of men with flagons full of ale, well dressed gentleman with fair ladies to their sides, and at least one booth is occupied by what would seem to be about ten goblins. However, one booth sits mostly empty. Empty- save for the woman seated in it.

In the far back of the right side of the booth, leaning against one wall is a woman, dressed quite well in a loose, white blouse and a pair of well made and form-fitting but otherwise more or less nondescript pair of black trousers. The more interesting feature of her appearance, however, one might find to be her ears. Her cat ears, apparently. They sit atop her head as if they own the place, one perked up and moving about slightly, the other sort of lazily drooping off to one side.

Though a drink sits before the woman in a black mug, she doesn’t seem to have noticed it, what with being asleep and all. How she fell asleep here, of all places, is anyone’s guess, but she would seem to be. Either that, or pretending. Or perhaps simply ‘resting her eyes’. Regardless, the entire bench across from the woman and some of the bench she’s sitting on is, indeed, empty.

Alternatively, there are surely some other empty seats somewhere in this bar- it’s quite big. It would of course be up to the individual.

As he slides in, the active ear turns to face him directly, resting on him for a moment before diverting its attention elsewhere. The woman herself makes no visible reaction.

However, with the increased proximity, Ashur might notice the woman’s earring- pierced into her right ear. It would seem to be a cabochon amethyst, worn button style. Which, in and of itself, is hardly worth noting, save for the fact that hers is glimmering rather furiously, and glowing slightly with a purplish sort of tinge. Beyond that, it doesn't appear to be doing anything in particular. Not visibly, at least.

Observing the bar, one might notice any number of things. Firstly and foremost, the diversity of its patrons; it’s a veritable grab-bag of races and creatures. A tall, elvish gentleman sipping something black that sparkles. A blatantly obvious demon of some variety, sharing a conversation with one of the barkeeps: someone who would seem to be simply a somewhat handsome man, save for his brightly lime colored hair.

Beyond the radical racial diversity, the bar also seems to be serving all manner of mixtures that aren’t quite the standard set of alcoholic beverages. That drink right there- that’s definitely a bright red color, and judging by the fangs on the man that ordered it, it may very well be straight blood. But over there, another man has a tall glass of some manner of golden drink. It ripples and undulates constantly, as if it might be molten gold itself. Yet, the man puts it away as if it were simply some manner of ale. Other such unique beverages are scattered about among the more easily identifiable ales, beers, and wines, but it would be tedious to detail each one.

The whole thing seems to function more or less smoothly. The barkeeps are skilled in their craft and not slow by any means, and though a few heated discussions can be picked out of the din, there is no shouting, and none of the other patrons within sight seem to be causing any issues- either amongst themselves or with the staff.

Around the room, primarily focused on the dining area the booth is technically a component of, waiters and waitresses putter about with platters of food. Some of them wear black suits or dresses with The Midnight Sun’s Logo emblazoned on their lapels. Others, curiously enough, are wearing what would seem to be bunny outfits, with corsets and ear headbands and such.

Additionally, it should be noted that at the far end of the table where it meets the wall, a wooden tablet sits, and a menu has been written upon it.

Spiral staircases? Excellent. That would aow for a much more convenient view of the path down than a cheaper, more crude, zigzag staircase. Of course the flip side was that anything coming up could also see them, but that was just the tradeoff, very little in life was all good for no cost.

"Roxy, you should go first. Even with the steps allowing a height difference, you will still not be able to see over me, whereas I can quite easily see over you."

Just then, the door opened. In stepped a young girl in a pink dress, entering the establishment with a degen and scabbard crudely slipped into a belt tied around her waist. As she had some money to spend, she thought perhaps she could find some solace here, at least the temporary kind. Going up to the counter, she waits for the bartender.

"Hmmm.... what's Heartbreak again..? Sounds frightening."
Wine sounded nice. She hoped they had a good selection here. She heard on the street that they carried things nobody else had--products just as comparable to alchemical brews to alcohol brews.
"Is there a menu of the selection, or maybe a list of the top five drinks?"

"Mmmm..."

It was quite the menu. She found herself wanting to try some of the food now... such exquisite menu items, for such little cost. She perused the menu for a moment before deciding.

"Oh yes, I was looking at the Avalon and steamed mutton kebab, but I was wondering..." she looked around to make sure nobody of particular importance was around to witness her ignorance, "..whatsa aralia spinosa thorn..? Oh, and Strangling.. Willow... Absinthe..?"