Hermes walks up to the bar, singing.
"His eyes they closed
and his last breath spoke
he had seen all to be seen
a life once full
now an empty vase
wilt the blossoms
on his early grave"

Hermes opens the doors to the bar with a sigh, ready for another day tending to the wounded, and the tired, and the plain old thirsty.

"walk away me boys
walk away me boys
and by morning we'll be free
wipe that golden tear
from your mother dear
and raise what's left
of the flag for me."

He imagines them, out in the field, dying for a cause they believe to be right, some, sadly, with hate in their hearts for those opposed to them. He remembered the smell of the battlefield during the Taskal War, he remembered the rage in his heart, he remembered hating his enemy. And then there was that day, watching a corrupt bleed out in front of him, when he'd had that impulse to wrap her wounds. He realized then, there was no point to wars of hate. They resulted only in death, and power moving from one tyrant to nother usually. He knew that the Taskal war had ended up differently, and that if the rebels won, so would this, but...He just wished more would realize that this could not be a labor of hate. If you hate your eemy, you ARE your enemy. And then he heard a scream. Turning to see who it was, he started to remember the Taskal War more and more, The woman bleeding in front of him, bearing the mark of the "Corrupt", her cries of agony, the blood on his hands, her blood on his blade. He remembered carrying her to the medical camp, and watching a doctor shoot her. He snapped back into reality, and saw a man with a large hole in his side slumped on the ground near the bar, and there was no breath being drawn by him. He heard hoofbeats riding off, and knew there was nothing he could do. He turned the man's body on it's back, layed him straight, and closed his eyes. Whispering a small prayer, he went back to opening the bar.

"then the rosary beads
count them 1 2 3
fell apart as they hit the floor
in a garb of black
we must pay respect
to the color we were born to mourn
walk away me boys
walk away me boys
and by morning we'll be free
wipe that golden tear
from your mother dear
and raise what's left
of the flag for me"

He set up the bottles of the cheap stuff on the bar, and set up his mixing materials underneath. He stroked his old Gunblade, with "Dess" written in the side. He had named her for the woman that day, knowing that whenever he lifted that weapon, he needed to remember her. He smiled, a solemn smile, if one could be, and started to wipe the bar down, singing again.

"In his place there grew an angry festered wound
Filled with hatred and remorse
Where I'd pick and scratch till the blood it matched
The silent rage not that fills my lungs
For there are many ways to kill a man they say
With bayonet, axe, or sword
But son a bullet fired from a shapeless guise
Leaves but the shell of a Thompson gun...
Walk away me boys, walk away me boys
And by morning we'll be free
Wipe that golden tear from your mother dear
And raise what's left of the flag for me"

He wondered if he would hear any stories this day from the warfront, as he wandered into the back to choose the daily weapon to display, like he always did. He carried a weapon at his side not in defense, but as a reminder to himself of fallen "foes", eah having belonged to one of them. Today, he decided, he would wear none on him. The flashback this morning had been enough.

"From the East out to the Western shore
Where many men and many more will fall
But no angel flies with me tonight
Till freedom reigns on all
And curse the name for which we slaved our days
Till every man shall his kingdom come
But sure as night turns day
Ends the passion play
Oh my god what have they done
With madman's rage, well they dug our graves
But the dead rise again you fools

Walk away me boys, walk away me boys
And by morning we'll be free
Wipe that golden tear from your mother dear
And raise what's left of the flag for me"

He smiled again, this time more happily, and took a deep breath. He hoped he would be able to serve at least one person in need today, said a prayer over the building, and prayed mercy on both sides this day, and swung the big front doors open them, locking them open as he always did, wishing everyone feel welcome.

"Walk away me boys, walk away me boys
And by morning we'll be free
Wipe that golden tear from your mother dear
And raise what's left of the flag for me"

He finished his song, and sat behind the bar twiddling his thumbs, resting and waiting for the first customers.

"Hello, hello~ How are you today? Can I offer you something to drink?"

Hermes chuckled. "Of course you can." He pours a glass for her, handing it over. "How goes it today?

Hermes turned to look at the new arrival.

"Then don't? But, then again, her highness would probably spare little mercy for someone leaving their gardening duties, if she treats her own blood with such violence. I expect you to be beheaded later today, aye?"

He laughed loudly.

"Or do you have some other poor fool doing it in your place?

"sure you do. It does such useful things, like breathing, eating, drinking. Especially drinking."

"Well, then, I would suggest learning braille~"

"I've never attempted, m'self. I see no point."

"Well, keep trying haha."

"Ah. Do so in the future, lest you feel unfulfilled."