The Bellators

3:5:1

 Vivacious singing of a Japanese voice over a lively track plays with a buoyancy, the fast speech coupled with the quick pace of the instrumentals giving the song a sense of contagious adrenaline. With a dramatic tone filled with the spirits of a passionate artist, with booming and ferocious highs followed by mellow quiet lows switched back and forth to create a dynamic piece, the music generates an aura of excitement.

From the creaky wooden walls with visible planks stacked vertically, the joyous music plays inside a large room lit yellow, and while the music has vocals of its own its joined by a flock of other voices, albeit rather than dramaticized in a song it's instead clustered in chatter amongst a sea of conversation. Similarly however, the other voices speaking over the song follow the same language.

Much of that conversation originates from a mob of primarily Japanese adults dressed in traditional kimonos, many of whom sit on wooden chairs with a row of rods functioning as back support, yet regardless of its largely traditional design it features no legs but rather levitates stably.

Most of the chairs are joined together in small groups such as twos and threes around circular wooden tables also levitating, all of which are clustered towards one side of the relatively narrow room near the wooden walls which project varyingly sized paintings many of which are gray toned with wooden frames next to hung wheels and other odd items below shelves. The people seated at the table speak amongst themselves, some clashing bottles together and cheering in casual exchanges of friendliness.

Above the conversation, the wall has an exposed frame of wooden planks seemingly makeshift, and below the ceiling are several hovering chandeliers as the source of the yellow light beside spinning fan blades also in the air unattached to any surface to provide adequate conditioning inside.

Along the other side of the room is a solid, long, wooden table that nearly extends across the entire room with hovering wooden stools residing on the side closer to the center, but on the other side is a long row of cabinets below a tabletop littered with transparent bottles filled with various liquids most of which are brown.

On the wall in front of a wide arched mirror reflecting the image of the room back are translucent brown shelves filled to the brim with more bottles in neat rows above one another, and around the arched mirror are more projected paintings.

On the table itself are many bottles and transparent cups spread across the table tended to by other people in kimonos sitting on the stools, drinking up the beverages while hollering to each other. Some of them specifically holler to a single person on the other side of the table, another man dressed similarly but in black with a long beard and elderly face.
At the far end of the narrow room are transparent windows placed along the wall, but in the center is a pair of low wooden batwing doors initially closed. In totality, the whole room largely resembles a traditional saloon popularized about ten centuries ago yet somehow clearly obtaining traffic.

Upon being summoned, the man on the other side approaches those who call for him, and after hearing their requests he then nods and walks back to the shelves along the arched mirror, where he grabs one of the bottles and walks with it to the bar table, where he then grabs for below the tabletop where he then pulls out one of the transparent glasses.

With one hand holding the bottle and the other holding the glass, the man pours the brown liquid clearly similar to alcohol from the bottle into the cup, filling it about three quarters as the liquid splashes around inside the new container.

After filling the cup enough, the man on the other side of the bar table tilts the bottle upright, and he slams the cup on the table gently.

With a light flick of the wrist, the man in the black kimono slides the cup down the table, all the way to the man who had initially made the request, who grabs the glass before it could slide past him.