This is a continuation of the previous multipart story, which followed a group of friends as they were heading out for a night out in The Western Wastes, of Talirda.
Those stories were written from the perspective of Andron, who was kind of dragged along on this adventure. But, for the following parts I've decided to swap perspectives to M'Trada.
A Night In The Western Wastes -
Here's The First Part of The Story -
Here's The Second Part of The Story -
Here's The Third Part of The Story -
Here's The Forth Part of The Story
Here's The Fifth Part of The Story
Here's The Sixth Part of The Story
Here's The Seventh Part of The Story
M'Trada inched his way toward the club. Sin.
The lights cast down an ominous red glow on the street and made the people outside the venue look monstrous. They all babbled and spoke incoherently, so much so that the sound they made was a wave of inaudible noise. He scanned over the crowd itself, which was less like multiple individuals and more like a tide of one organism divided into the many. Some stared at him but turned away as he met their view. Fiends.
Attire changed drastically from person to person. Some wore tattered rags and were here for something more than partying. Some wore old military garb defaced with slogans. Some were wearing neat clothing and designer brands. Others wore hardened leather and armour pieces. Most of the people outside proudly wore weapons on show, which, to the squeamish could have been seen as intimidating or dangerous. It didn't make the place dangerous, and in his own experience, he found it to be a safe venue to dwell. With so many armed and ready to start shooting, everyone keeps their mouths shut and their business minded. He thought.
Mari was long gone by this stage, hidden in the crowd. Absorbed into the mass. Andron, however, nervously lagged behind M'Trada, and did well to keep up.
"I don't know about this," he whispered as he got closer.
"Don't worry so much, it's one of the last nights we'll have together, so let's just enjoy it." M'Trada didn't mean for the words to come off cold, but they did.
He was still coming to terms with the fact that Andron was leaving. It made sense in a way and certainly explained his recent absence. Being told about it was hard, and while he still felt slightly upset about it, he did all he could to bite his tongue and not mention it too much. The last thing he wanted to do was make him feel any more uncomfortable than he looked.
"Keep up, we'll get inside." M'Trada said, and pushed forward through the horde.
The door was guarded by two people, one was a Human, small in comparison to the other. Quiet, with short dark hair, and dark clothing. He was the backup, and while he didn't seem like much, M'Trada knew the owners of the establishment wouldn't hire just anyone to work the door. The main guard; the one standing closer, was a Trisken, with a broken bone-cap covering its mouth. The exo-skeletal bone-cap was a defining characteristic that separated Triskens from any other race. It moved down as they got closer, and the guard's fangs and light leathery mouth were revealed.
"I remember you," the Trisken guard said as he slowly stared at the two of them.
"It's not usually a good sign to gain any attention from security," M'Trada said with a shrug. The Trisken didn't seem to respond, however, the Human counterpart seemed to let out a light chuckle, but he did will to conceal it. "Funny, a Human and Trisken duo both," he continued as he gestured to the two pairs.
"Humans make for good pets. Funny creatures, all." The guard said, glancing back at his co-worker who instantly shook his head. "Anyway," the guard's eyes darted back. "Any contraband? Drugs, explosives,"
"I have a pistol," Andron said through a quivery voice and he quietened down. "I, it's not very good."
"You'd be brave to travel these streets without one, Human." The guard said, and a moment later he stiffened up, his bone-cap covering concealed his lower face once more, and he gestured toward the door as he stepped aside.
M'Trada stepped aside and lifted an arm to present the open doorway to Andron, who slowly stepped forward. "After you." He said, which prompted him to move faster.
There was no knowing why exactly Andron was so scared of the place, M'Trada loved it here and found that it had a very homely vibe. A weird home. Full of strangers and degenerates. But a home none the less.
