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The Emperor's Golden Garden Tavern


Walls made of bamboo, a floor of tatami, a soft ambient lightning coming from hung lanterns. A very traditional decoration indeed, reminding strongly of Old Earth' japanese feodal era, a time that has passed away long, very long ago.
There's no chairs around. In Kusari tradition, you seat on a cushion directly on the floor. That was why their tables were so low.
And the reason why everything looked as if it was designed for a midget people.


A table for 4.

It was a charming, exotic place where many travellers stopped to take some rest after traveling through the sigmas or the taus (much less from the taus these days for obvious reasons). You could see some Samura escort pilots near the bar, the Kishiro ones, some distance away, enjoying their tea, there were some GMG ace pilots and of course, the imperial navy pilots taking some time off, along with their state police comrades, relaxing but still watchful.
You could see some Libertonians around, mostly adventurers, young freelancers in the quest of new world. Some Rheinlanders, there for business and for their nation of course. Needless to say, no Bretonian at all.

The tavern was built on a symetric pattern, and although no one ever mentionned it, the unspoken rule was Kusari people on the east wing, Outsiders, west wing. The center of the tavern where was located the bar was the only place where both people could mix up and socialise - but Kusari people would usually stay among their own kinsmen.

Restauration service mostly consisted of fresh fish products shipped daily from all around Kusari along with a variety of agricultural products from the farmers of Honshu. A variety of Outsider' food was available as well, but one could easily notice the lack of Synth Paste products. Everything in this establishment had to be "healthy and clean" to maintain a good reputation, after all.
It also made the AFA happier.


It is a good idea to bring your own fork and knife if you don't know how to use chopstick.

As of alcohol, sake was obviously the main choice around - and offered in all variety, cold, warm, fermented how long, etc. Outsiders usually have a misery tolerating such a strange liquor.
And of course, tea. Not Bretonian tea of course - you wouldn't be able to find any in all the empire in any event, ever since the war is going on. Tea, in all its variety of colours, one sweeter than another. Or bitter than another, depending of your tastes.

The tavern never closes, as servants are being changed shifts after shifts. Automated androids take care of the job in the earlier hours of the morning when fewer patrons are still awaken, but basically, no matter when your stomach growls for some Kobe beef or your group feels like some bottles of sake, you will always be a welcomed guest in the Golden Garden.

After a long trade run involving several trips through Kusari, Omega 49 and even through the Nomad systems of the Omicrons, a very run down Doc finally sets the Mary Kateon the docking platform of New Tokyo. His health already not good, it was obvious he needed rest and a good meal. The Synth Paste on board was enough to cause anyone a bad case of costipation over time.

After securing the ship, Doc made his slow walk to this new tavern.
"The Emperor's Golden Garden," he read out loud to himself, "it sound's different but good."
The old westerner entered and checked his trench coat and followed the hostess to his seat.
As he waited, he pulled a small journal from his pocket and made an entry:

I must say, these Oriental ladies are indeed a sight for tired eyes. Very pleasing. They smile almost out of habit and are very hospitable. It is no wonder I have opted to spend a bulk of my time trading in the system. If only we could have some of them on Gran Canaria. But for now, and as a Zoner, I need to maintain the quiet and secrecy of it.

I still don't understand it though, these Golden Chrysanthemums, they are so bent on changing everything through force. I do understand their cause, such as it is, but I send out a hail and I'm met with gun fire. Still, I haven't needed to return fire with the armor and shielding the Mary Kate has on her. Hopefully I'll be able to talk sensibly to one of them in the near future.

As the hostess returned to take a drink order, he closed the journal, placed it in his pocket, removed his hat and smiled at her, receiving one in return.
"Why my young lady, I have never had Saki but I shall be honored to try it. Perhaps whenyou return, you can assist me with this menu. I shall make it worth your while."

The young hostess made a pleasant smile as she bowed, very serviable.
"Certainly, honored guest."
She went away with little light pace, her sandals making barely any sound on the tatami as she came back with a little bottle of sake.
"Your sake, my lord."

After what, she went on to explain the various dishes served at the garden, from the simple onigiri rice balls, the simpliest of the sushis made of shrimp from the seas of Honshu to more complexe variety of okazu, and then beef soba noodles, popular among the lower classes of imperial citizens and more and more commong outside Kusari. The variety was exceedingly large, and represented well the long history of the nippon empire' culture.

--

From time to time, high ranking officers would come in. But here in a tavern, there were no need to salute them, so all Isabelle Mitsurugi got when she entered were the curious glances from just about everyone - for she was wearing the imperial uniform just like much of the soldiers patronning around. And she certainly didn't looked Kusari at all.
Her fiery red cape brushed the soft flooring as she walked past the bar along with her bodyguard, a tall helmeted kusari soldier armoured with anti-blaster plates.
As she neared the clients, they could notice the two ranks of decoration - barely any of them from the Kusari empire. Yet, her shoulder plates indicated two bars and 5 stars; the rank of the imperial generals, the high ranking strategist warriors of the army.

There was some majesty to it as silence suddenly fell in the room as she walked up to the terasse of the Officers, a place especially reserved for the naval forces personnel.
As soon as she wasn't in sight anymore, conversation began once again, but she was soon back, without the symbolic armour and cape - for the time being, she wanted everyone to look upon her as any of the other soldiers in this tavern, so no one stopped their chatter this time.

Isabelle sat down on one of the cushion, alone with her bodyguard. It has been a long time since she spent some time alone - just for herself. She smiled at the prospect of a life just as it used to be when she was still the youngest libertonian general...
"Rheinland Kolsch, please." she asked as a hostess came to take care of her command.

There used to be a time when spending time in a bar was a natural habit for her, even though her consommation remained ever low. She smiled slightly at the thought she did used to flirt from time to time - never engaging in a serious relationship of course. And then there was Jimmy... but that was a different story.
She still felt somewhat nervous at the prospect of wedding, but was happy anyway with it. She just needed some time to get used to the idea, and for that, she needed a place like this one where she could forget for a moment the heavy duty of a warrior.

She sipped slowly at her drink, reflecting on her past as she dismissed her bodyguard for the time being...

Doc lifted his glass of Saki and examined it, much as he would a shot of whiskey. He took a sniff and raised his eyebrows in delight. Having never had tasted Saki, he took a sip and then let his tongue baste in what he had taken into his mouth. It was quite different but quite good. He gave an easy smile to the hostess, put the drink down for the moment and listened to her talk about the various dishes.

After a short cough which he contained in his napkin, he placed his order.
"I figured I best not try anything to exotic," he explained, "at least not this time. I would like to try an order of your beef negimake. I'll let you surprise me with anything else." With that, he closed his menu and handed it back to the hostess and gave a gentle bow of his head out of respect.
--

As he waited, he sipped on the Saki which he found great enjoyment in and began scanning the area, seeing what was going on. He noticed the woman pass with her bodyguard. He didn't make his curiosity obvious but he did watch if for no other reason to be aware of his surrounding. He did find it unusual that the bodyguard had left to a spot by himself.

For the most part, he paid little attention to the Kusari military folk. He had no issues with them and didn't want any. If anything, he felt slightly indebted for the more relaxed environment they provided in the sector, at least for him anyway. The trials and tribulations of Liberty and the iron grip the Navy had placed on just about everyone was smothering to say the least. As a result, Doc made few trips into Liberty.

The other thing he liked, no bounty hunters. He personally had no issues with them but he felt that they were just as bad as the Liberty Navy themselves. The ban on bounty hunters in Kusari north of the base in Shikoku was a relief.

If there was a war going on between Bretonia and Kusari, he didn't notice it. He had seen the skirmishes in Tau-31 but just cruised past them. As he enjoyed his drink, he continued observing his surroundings. Much like the well dressed military woman that had passed him earlier, some quite solitude was a welcome feeling for the old style Westerner.

A tall Kusari man, dressed in simple traditional wear made of fine dark textiles. He takes a quick glance before making his way to the east end of the tavern. He exchanges a nod with a man in a Samura uniform as he walks by. He takes a seat at a table across from a man in much more simple clothes of earthy tones. The two talk in low voices as they sip on tea. An air of tension seems about the two, but none come near the two patrons in their conversation, unless it is to bring more tea. After an hour, the man waives the Samura pilot over, and the three quickly obtain some warm sake. The tension seems gone as the three laugh and enjoy the view of the bar maids from their table.

Even before his food was served, Doc sat at his table just soaking in the pleasant atmosphere. For the time, he was able to control the cough that constantly plagued him. As many times as he had passed through Kusari space, he was getting a first hand look at the hospitality provided on planet New Tokyo. He also continued to admire the Kusari women who passed and dined around him, not making it look obvious.

As he waited, he continued with his Saki. Pulling a deck of playing cards out of his pocket, he played a quiet game of solitaire. "Are these people gamblers," he thought to himself as he flipped one card after another. He would delay every few cards to look around him, seeing if anyone was watching him or if anyone caught his interest. With the atmosphere he was in, waiting for his meal was......not so bad.

After consuming sake for an hour, the Samura pilot and the man in the simple clothes leaves, stumbling on their way out. Being the last at the table, the man in the dark clothes gets up and makes his way to the bar. He obtains another drink as he notices the gaijin sitting alone at this table with a deck of cards. He turns to a Kusari office beside him at the bar and mentions something as he points towards the gaijin, and the two begin to laugh.

After finishing his drink, the man makes his way to across the west end of the tavern, getting confused looks from the patrons on both sides of the tavern.

"Konnichiwa, gaijin" He says to Doc Holliday with only the slightest hint of a slur "Do you know anything other than solitaire, or is loneliness the only game you can deal out?"

"Konnichiwa, Sir," replied Doc, "I didn't know that loneliness was a game." He then motioned for the man to have a seat.
"Of course, Sir, you don't have to. We can either kill time together or we can be," he paused and finally finished, "lonely."
He then returned to shuffling his deck, stopping momentarily to take another drink.

Isabelle walked to the little group of men slowly, smiling slightly as she sipped from her strong rheinland drink. There was a time when she used to walk in bars and men would glue around her within seconds. That was a time back in Liberty, when she was still a young soldier...

In Kusari, with the structured society, no such thing would happen. Less exciting, more respectful. She prefered it that way.
It didn't mean she didn't seeked out for pleasure from time to time around a table, even if she was soon going to wed her lover.

"Greetings sir. Let us forget for a moment my rank, if you'd allow me to join you?" She said pleasantly in a surprisingly fluid, accentless japanese.

The ground begins to tremble as soon as the nightmare from hell sets foot in the golden garden tavern. He looks one way then another way. Two guards come charging at him from the a table to the left. Once the guards approached him at last, they stumbled while trying to get a hold of what they are seeing. "An...ou..t..c..c..c.ast h..h....here?!?!"

a grin widens over this monsters face, "yes...an outcast here"