Dream Sequence – Part 03: The Salon of Pimodan

OrangePace

Lyra Vane

OrangePace

spoken word, ambient, psychedelic

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V5.5

[Intro – 16 bars]
(Distorted, velvet-muffled piano chord – pitch-bent, 50 BPM and slow)
(Distant, warm candle crackle and heavy floating reverb)

[Spoken Word / Very Slow Narration]

...Lyra Vane.

[Pause]

...Dream Sequence, Fragment Zero-Three.

[Pause]

...Location: Salon of Hôtel Pimodan, Paris.

[Pause]

...Subject: Captain John Meltron.

[Long Pause]

...The dense, greenish smoke of burning hashish resin and myrrh hung so heavy in the salon of Hôtel Pimodan... that the gilded ceiling ornaments seemed to float in the pale candlelight.

[Pause]

...The notes of a piano drifted through the chamber... but the melody was asynchronous... distorted and eerie.

[Pause]

...As if velvet-gloved hands were dampening the strings... while the resonance echoed in the ears like liquid neon.

[Long Pause]

...In the center of this intoxicated haze, Sina sat at a heavy, round mahogany table.

[Pause]

...Instead of her bikini, she wore a flowing, emerald-green Arabian robe of the finest silk... woven with threads of gold that draped heavily to the floor.

[Pause]

...Her datapad lay forgotten beside her... its display flickering faintly to the rhythm of the piano... unable to parse a clean system ID within this obscured sector.

[Long Pause]

...She held four playing cards in her hand.

[Pause]

...The illustrations made no sense... the symbols shifting lazily across the parchment in the corner of the eye... like liquid mercury.

[Long Pause]

...Sina glanced over the edge of her cards at the circle of men gathered around the table.

[Pause]

...To her left sat Kovacs.

[Pause]

...Draped in an embroidered oriental robe... holding his cards with utter clumsiness... he stared greedily at a small silver bowl in the center of the table... filled with a thick, sweet green paste.

[Long Pause]

...“I’m telling you, this Dawamesk stuff tastes atrocious,” he grumbled in a heavy, sluggish drawl.

[Pause]

...“But it keeps the synapses warm... And God help any of you gentlemen if you write my shipping manifest with a V later...”

[Long Pause]

...“Silence, Vocacs... you’re disturbing the séance,” Lysander whispered.

[Pause]

...Sinking deeper into his armchair in a silk dressing gown, a mocking, detached grin played on his lips... as he blew a thick plume of smoke toward the ceiling.

[Pause]

...Vesper and Garrick sat in the shadows behind them... silent observers in this intoxicated still life.

[Outro]
(Surreal piano tone fading into deep, resonant haze)
(Ambient drone dissolving slowly into silence)
[End]

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All rights to the lyrics and music belong to OrangePace7515 ============================================== Playlist: https://suno.com/playlist/52e164e2-91df-44a3-af66-984f15380507 ============================================== [Intro – 16 bars] (Distorted, velvet-muffled piano chord – pitch-bent, 50 BPM and slow) (Distant, warm candle crackle and heavy floating reverb) [Spoken Word / Very Slow Narration] ...Lyra Vane. [Pause] ...Dream Sequence, Fragment Zero-Three. [Pause] ...Location: Salon of Hôtel Pimodan, Paris. [Pause] ...Subject: Captain John Meltron. [Long Pause] ...The dense, greenish smoke of burning hashish resin and myrrh hung so heavy in the salon of Hôtel Pimodan... that the gilded ceiling ornaments seemed to float in the pale candlelight. [Pause] ...The notes of a piano drifted through the chamber... but the melody was asynchronous... distorted and eerie. [Pause] ...As if velvet-gloved hands were dampening the strings... while the resonance echoed in the ears like liquid neon. [Long Pause] ...In the center of this intoxicated haze, Sina sat at a heavy, round mahogany table. [Pause] ...Instead of her bikini, she wore a flowing, emerald-green Arabian robe of the finest silk... woven with threads of gold that draped heavily to the floor. [Pause] ...Her datapad lay forgotten beside her... its display flickering faintly to the rhythm of the piano... unable to parse a clean system ID within this obscured sector. [Long Pause] ...She held four playing cards in her hand. [Pause] ...The illustrations made no sense... the symbols shifting lazily across the parchment in the corner of the eye... like liquid mercury. [Long Pause] ...Sina glanced over the edge of her cards at the circle of men gathered around the table. [Pause] ...To her left sat Kovacs. [Pause] ...Draped in an embroidered oriental robe... holding his cards with utter clumsiness... he stared greedily at a small silver bowl in the center of the table... filled with a thick, sweet green paste. [Long Pause] ...“I’m telling you, this Dawamesk stuff tastes atrocious,” he grumbled in a heavy, sluggish drawl. [Pause] ...“But it keeps the synapses warm... And God help any of you gentlemen if you write my shipping manifest with a V later...” [Long Pause] ...“Silence, Vocacs... you’re disturbing the séance,” Lysander whispered. [Pause] ...Sinking deeper into his armchair in a silk dressing gown, a mocking, detached grin played on his lips... as he blew a thick plume of smoke toward the ceiling. [Pause] ...Vesper and Garrick sat in the shadows behind them... silent observers in this intoxicated still life. [Outro] (Surreal piano tone fading into deep, resonant haze) (Ambient drone dissolving slowly into silence) [End]

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