Bar - Exterior
A light brush of dirt lingers on Theo's forehead as they wipe the sweat from their brow with the back of their forearm. A steady stream of people pass behind them. The crowd continues, oblivious to the pride with which Theo stares at an unassuming brown lacquered door before them. Situated up a curved stone staircase, the aesthetic of the door is one of the the only clues of what lies beyond the threshold. Unlike the other businesses that run the length of this avenue, lined with apartment complexes that rise well into the sky, the doorway eschews neon signs for vibrant, flowering vines that hang from the exterior brick walls. There are no revolving glass doors spiraling as people come and go -- just a old-fashioned wooden door that sticks a bit as the contractors working within make their finishing touches on the remodelling job they are completing. A door, engraved with An Tsí about halfway up its length, that has to be pushed a little harder than expected, almost as if it’s asking to be sure you wish to enter.
A towering hulk of a man approaches Theo, announcing his presence with a cough. “Alexandre!” Theo claps the back of his shoulder, leaning onto their tiptoes to reach. “It looks magnificent.”
He raises an eyebrow, scanning the street behind the pair. “You sure this is what you’re wanting…” His brows knit. “M-mishh.” Frustration paints a pink hue over his face.
“Try pronouncing it like mix.” Theo says, an understanding smile spreading across their lips.
Alexandre winces but continues, “Mx. Theo…” they shoot the gentle giant a thumbs up, which seems to put them at ease. “It doesn’t quite stand out like the other bars down here.” Both of them turn and see the dimmed bulbs of signs hanging outside empty establishments. The midday sun casts the shadow of the signs to the ground, and Theo’s gaze lingers over them for but a moment too long for Alexandre’s comfort.
The silence is broken by a chipper chuckle, “Ya know, I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing, ‘Lex.” Theo brushes their nose with a thumb, depositing more dirt onto their face to Alexandre’s dismay. They point back to their door with a grin, “I have the sneaking suspicion that the bar will always be found by just the people who need it.”
An Tsi - Interior
A short hallway connects the door of the bar to its interior. A metal receptacle by the door contains a weathered black umbrella. A plush leather chair situates itself on one side of the passage, coat hooks and benches lining the other. A single blue raincoat is always found on the furthest hook from the door, regardless of the building’s occupancy. Checkerboard marble tiles lead the way up a small step into the bar itself.
The bar is cozy -- a single, rectangular room, about twice as long as it is wide, walls painted wrought iron gray. Eight semicircular booths are situated around two of the walls, a stage roped off by a thick velvet rope barrier is nestled in the corner opposite the entrance. Three high-top tables, each with two tall chairs sitting opposite one another, are the only things in the middle of the space. The furthest wall from the entrance, though, is the focal point of the room. A bar runs between the long walls, evenly-spaced stools firmly attached to the marble floor beneath them. The wall behind the bar is covered in vegetation, most dense at the center, vines spiraling outwards, growing more sparse the further they travel. The vines sprout various herbs and small fruit, and the bits of wall that can be seen behind their foliage are covered by a mirror. Stereotypical liquor shelves jut out from their depths, carrying most of the typical bartending fare. Closest to the bartenders reach are a collection of bottles of odd shapes and sizes, meticulously arranged, but by some indecipherable standard. A sink sits under the far corner of the bar, various spouts and hoses attached.
