abraxas :: horizon.

[emulsions]

The Bear

The Bear is a restaurant that sits between some half-constructed buildings that simulate the area of River North in Chicago within the contained space of his domain. Its exterior is simple and modern.

— In the evenings, the restaurant is open for "dinner service." (There are no diners except you.)

— In the daytime, the restaurant is usually locked, but if you knock and Carmy is around, he'll probably come let you in.

Front of House

The interior of The Bear is polished, and every fork and napkin has been set with precision. This is the kind of restaurant you dress up for, but it's not overly stiff. The ambience is warm and inviting. Oddly (or maybe not that odd, given it's the Horizon) there are no staff.

Don't be too eager to seat yourself, though; menus will materialize at your designated table, indicting where you should sit. You don't have to sit there, but it's, you know, the custom. Despite the complete lack of patrons, you can hear the chatter and music of a typical restaurant.

If Carmy notices you're here (there's a chance he won't unless you call for him), he'll come chat. He does not have any fucking idea why his restaurant behaves the way it does. Just go with it.

à la Carte

— The upper half of the menu is what's typically served at the restaurant, consisting of inspired options like Italian beef T-bone and a mortadella mousse cannoli. There's also a family spaghetti dish that seems strangely out of place.

— The lower half is whatever you want it to be, consciously or subconsciously. Whether you miss a meal from home or you just want a greasy cheeseburger, a series of one or more options will fill the blank space. Pick something or let your Horizon brain manifest for you; it'll taste exactly as you recall.

Or, if the chef is in, you can ask him yourself. He can make just about anything as long as it's not wildly alien.

Back of House

The back of the house is as chaotic as the front is orderly. There is no trace of the newly rennovated kitchen. Instead, it's the same shitty equipment from The Beef, the old sandwich shop before The Bear took its place.

Depending on Carmy's state of mind, it might be pretty clean, a bit of a mess, or—in extreme circumstances—completely on fire. Sometimes the tickets spit out fun insults or anxieties, but the highly specific anxieties that accompany them make it clear it's not directed at you. His office is full of untamed paperwork, a permanent bottle of Fernet-Branca, Pepto-Bismol, and a not yet framed card with a recipe for spaghetti on it.

You can also find a freezer with a janky handle, but no matter how much you jiggle it, it won't open.

Don't worry about it. You shouldn't be back here, anyway. Staff only.

(CODE)

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