In the heart of Entropy Estates, where the world outside is a mixture of past and decay, The Glitch Inn offers its very own sanctuary. Under its roof are people whose appearance is characterized by technological prostheses and cybernetic implants – visible signs of the protests and struggles they have endured. Here they are no longer the “repaired” or “improved”, but simply guests who wish to escape the rigors of life.
The Glitch Inn exudes a raw aesthetic, with walls covered in old schematics and yellowing photos of Ravenlock City in better times. The lighting is subdued, created by a collection of lights that are in a constant state of flickering – a constant reminder of the “glitch” that named the place. Yet it is precisely this imperfection that creates an atmosphere of belonging and authenticity.
The bar has an aura of its own, one that carries the stories of the many souls who have passed through its doors. It is a place that reflects the duality of Entropy Estates: Between progress and decay, between hope and melancholy.
At The Glitch Inn, the music is a patchwork of past decades, a soundtrack for the souls who come here. The beer may not always be cold, but nobody seems to mind. It’s the taste of the community that counts here, not the perfection of the amenities. The bartenders know most of their guests by name and greet every newcomer with a mixture of curiosity and warm-hearted acceptance.
Ex-soldiers sit at the bar, their cybernetic augmentations and faded uniforms telling stories of civil unrest and past battles. Their hard features sometimes give way to smiles when they are among like-minded people, surrounded by the warm, if flickering, lights of the bar. Next to them often sit those who have had the good fortune – or misfortune – to remain untouched by technology, the “Pure Ones” as they are sometimes called.
Androids, whose innards are endowed with more humanity than their outer shell suggests, mingle with the crowd, blending in seamlessly and offering a quiet comfort that goes beyond their programmed functions. The light of Vellor’s lost ideals glows in their eyes, a spark that seems almost human in the darkness of the bar.
The Glitch Inn is more than just a bar in the deep bowels of Entropy Estates; it’s a place steeped in history, a living relic from a time when the future still seemed bright and promising. The bar’s foundation dates back to the early days of the Estates, when the building was still trading as Harmony Heights and was seen as a showcase for urban luxury and technological integration.
In those days, the bar was a chic meeting place for the aspiring elite who lived in the former Heights – full of hope for a world improved by technology. With advanced mixologist robots concocting exotic cocktails and an AI-driven atmosphere that adapted to the mood of the guests, it was a symbol of affluence and the new social order.
But as the promise of the Estates began to fade and the shiny facades cracked, so too did the bar’s fortunes. The elite moved away in search of the next trend, leaving behind those who either didn’t want to or couldn’t leave. Over time, the bar morphed into The Glitch Inn, a nickname that was initially meant as a joke but soon became the official name.
The Glitch Inn adapted to the new realities. The once state-of-the-art robotic bartenders were replaced by human hands that served less perfectly, but with genuine warmth. The AI that once read the mood gave up the ghost, leaving behind a bar whose charm now lay in its simplicity and lack of pretense.
The Glitch Inn has seen factions like The Codex and The Reclaimers come and go, soaking up their stories and dreams, becoming a silent chronicler of Entropy Estates. In the warm darkness of the bar, beneath the gentle hum of faulty electronics, the true story of the Estates lies hidden, waiting to be told over a cold drink – or perhaps a warm one.
At The Glitch Inn, beneath the hum of conversation and soulful music, there is always the quiet hope that something of Adrian Vellor’s dream has survived. Perhaps, some whisper, it is the walls themselves that hold the last fragments of his vision and concentrate them in this unlikely place. Thus, The Glitch Inn becomes more than just a bar; it becomes a silent monument to humanity in a world that too often forgets to be human.
