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At home right in the galley of the Grandcypher, Raguda isn't just a place to dine and drink, but to let your heart be free. Will you kindle the spirit of romance or enjoy some relaxing time with a friend? Raguda’s door is open to all.
No reservations needed, walk-ins are accepted.
Open from 5PM, closed on Mondays.
Dream Awakening
Rum, pineapple slices, vanilla, half a caramelized passion fruit, lime, cinnamon
New people coming into Raguda is never a surprise— Djeeta electrifies every room she walks into and has a knack for picking up strays, so the crew gets larger and larger by the month. All the better for Ladiva; the Grandcypher is at times too massive and Raguda's unofficial schedule is her best opportunity to meet new faces.
One of the newcomers has been hunched over at the bar, her eyes on the other patrons instead of the menu. Fediel's lip juts out the longer the clock ticks on, and finally she locks eyes with Ladiva. “I heard this would be the prime spot for dyads, but don’t you think it’s far too quiet around here?”
It's hardly a quiet night; a small group had returned from harvesting materials, and are enjoying a few rounds in celebration. Their drunken laughter echoes across the old wood, a merry sound. “I’m afraid I don’t know what a dyad is.”
“Of course you know! You are a seer for love, aren’t you? Love between two people results in them forming a dyad, and a dyad is forever. ”
Ah, so she means romantic partners, does she? “Anyone looking for love is more than welcome here, but that's not the only reason people stop by."
She groans, flopping her head onto the bar counter, horns rattling some of the stray glasses. Ladiva has heard from Djeeta how the woman before her is as old as the skies, but her childishness born from curiosity is very charming. “Cheer up darling, I’m sure you can still enjoy yourself here.” Fediel peeks up at her from her curtain of hair, and Ladiva says, “You’ve been sitting there for hours. Are you sure you don’t want a drink?”
“If you please, whatever you think is best. I’m by my lonesome tonight, my compatriots are nowhere to be found. If I could at least see one dyad then…”
It doesn't seem like she means much harm, but it also doesn't seem like she's aware of how curiosity can be a spotlight. “You should be careful. People might get a little nervous to see you staring at them in such a way.”
“The erune lass said the same thing. But then how do you do it? How do you remain a seer if you don't watch people?"
"Watching people isn't the issue." Those with their ears and eyes closed soon close their hearts in turn. "It's that you're watching so intensely. Anyone would feel uncomfortable if they feel like they're being observed. But if you listen with all you have, what they tell you, how they act, then you can see what they care for and need, their ups and downs."
Fediel opens her mouth, then closes it again. She seems to struggle with her words for a moment, before wearing her fangs across her lips as she sighs. "Wisdom comes with experience, so it is. I'll take that to heart. Do you have a dyad yourself? If you’re an expert, than surely…”
In truth, she never thought about it much. Years spent, busy at the orphanage and helping make the Jewel Resort shine just as bright as the gem that ran it. Even longer making people glow from the inside out. She can't deny the idea of a special kind of love, all to herself, is a fascinating dream, but not one she's in a hurry to fall into. “I’m not opposed. But perhaps the time was never right for me. If the right person comes around,” she shoots a wink, “I'd think about it. Same with you, no?”
Fediel's eyes widen, but then she sits back with a smile of someone that understands. "Indeed. Life is not my field, but I never dreamed there would be so much of it. Skydwellers will never be young enough to live forever. All they have is the hope of something, but that is enough."
She agrees. That has always been enough.
Corpse Reviver
Orange triple-sec liquor, fresh lemon, gin, dry vermouth, absinthe, with a sprinkling of ash
She’s always found it odd that the people that don those red-and-blue cloaks have the same uniform but have no intention of reaching out to each other. Lobelia is usually alone but never seems lonely. Today he is at the corner of the bar, prying olives off toothpicks with his teeth. There are a few other flitting patrons in the galley, and while they don’t seem to be going out of their way to avoid him, they don’t seem to be making any effort to interact with him either. Jamil is casting wary glances, sending danger signs her way.
So up she goes and asks, “Is this your first time here?”
“Salut, madame! And yes, quite so. I’d heard that there is delightful music on Wednesdays, and I have not been disappointed!”
Selfira and Elta are on stage tonight, playing out small tunes to the patrons that have gathered. “So you came for the music, not for a consultation?”
“Me?” He blinks in surprise. “Ah, I’ve heard of your love consultations, but perish the thought! I have no need for something like that. Tower and I… we’ve reached an understanding.” Something curdles on his words, delighted and utterly dark, but just as drenched in devotion.
She admits, she doesn’t exactly know what he's referring to. She’s heard quite a few warnings from crew members about how the man before her is balancing on a knife’s edge and enjoys every moment. But just as well he speaks of a love so strong it’s changed him deeply. "Is that so? I'm glad for you."
"Merci! To have someone understand me is happiness. Everyone deserves to be happy, no?"
"Oh yes. It's good to find something after a long time, isn't it?"
He stares at her with shocked eyes, then bursts into a laughter that comes from his stomach. "Quite right! Yes, it's been far too long, but the wait made it all the more worth it." He raises his glass, in unusually high spirits. "A toast then, madame! To a long and fruitful future and an explosive finale! That is the only way love should go!"
He laughs like there’s a secret that only he understands. Ah well, such is life.
A blank tab
No drink ordered. No comments given.
The serpent called her a maiden of love and he likes to lie but that much is true— she is filled with love, love is strength, and she will not be stopped. Of course, she is a fighter that does not kill in the ring, even though she knows she would not receive nearly as much mercy in return.
The king of the fallen angels certainly looks every bit the monster Djeeta has spoken of in hushed tones after a long day. Corpse-pale, stitches in a ring around his neck, dark ichor pulsing from his back like blood. She thought he’d attack her on sight. She’s surprised that he allowed her to say her piece before he closed his ears. But that she is not foreign to; many people believing in their own ugliness have stepped into the ring on the Jewel Resort. Not this time. His madness is so great that he’s convinced himself his heart is a void. He is blind to his own truths.
She knows right away that for the first time, her love cannot reach someone. He has to be stopped. Not because he could destroy all the skies by sunset, but because this is no way to live.
Ginger Soda
Hand ground ginger, ginger ale, house spiced syrup, a slice of lime
Ladiva has a cup of marshmallow hot chocolate that smells close to divine steaming on the counter before Djeeta walks in. She has a hug at the ready too— a good thirty second hug, enough to squeeze shoulders without hurting. Djeeta is in her monk's robes today, trailing fabrics flowing off her arms, but there is dust on her face and her shoulders aren't as forward set as they usually are. A failed mission then, but all the disappointment slides off her face when she smells the sharp scent of warm cocoa.
There's much to appreciate about the captain, how she keeps her head turned towards the expanse of the sky, how she has enough heart for everyone on the ship, how she tries her hardest to be the sun in the shade. She tells Ladiva about how the mission screwed up but they'll try again tomorrow, but when she looks at the firmness in Ladiva's face and her story skids to a halt. “Usually you ask what’s wrong, but I think it’s my turn to ask you.”
Ladiva is suddenly aware of her neutral expression. There’s a lump in her throat and she sighs it out. If she asks people to be truthful, then she owes them the same in return. “I’ve seen all sorts of people before, but I’ve never seen anyone so committed to closing their heart.”
Djeeta doesn't smile. She knows what Ladiva means without asking. “People can only be helped if they want to be, you know?”
“I know. Still it…” She has stared into the loveless depths and the memory wilts her like a flower touched by frost. The warmth will return eventually, but she is still waiting for spring.
Djeeta warms her hands on the hot mug, contemplating. Then slapping her cheeks, she jumps off the stool. "I'll be bartender tonight!"
"Dear, I don't think..."
“It’s alright! I know I’m still underage… probably. Honestly, with all the time and space stuff, who knows what age I am anymore. Oh well, I won’t touch the alcohol, okay?”
It makes her a bit weary to hear Djeeta talk like that all the time, like she’s gone through so many crises that she doesn’t know what to make of herself anymore. But when the captain puts her mind to something she is a beautiful thing, and Ladiva will happily indulge her.
She was promised a surprise, so Ladiva checks stock to pass the time. Some of the dried roses keeping the curtains tied have come undone, so she weaves them back into place. Behind her, glass clinks together, the repeated thrum of a knife skirting a chopping board, some old childhood song humming under hushed breath.
Djeeta presents with a sweep of her arms a simple ginger soda; a wedge of line jammed down on the rim of the glass, fresh ginger grinds pinned down by ice. Hardly the most complicated drink, but every sip goes down strong and sweet. The low yellow lights illuminate Djeeta's smile, and Ladiva can feel the thaw, bit by bit.