The DreadNot nightclub was not always so packed. Even at peak business days and hours, traffic was usually limited to an "if you know, you know," basis. Something was drawing people into the den of lights and music like the moths they were. The managers of the establishment knew the source of their windfall was posted up in a balcony lounge on the second floor, but they chose to leave him to his devices - they only spoke the one language, of course, the shiny, clinky, credit-y kind. Nico stared down at the dance floor, the wriggling mass of flashing silhouettes having a somewhat hypnotic effect on the young punk. The feeling was mutual, he supposed. He tore himself away from the lasers and smoke for a moment to check on the goods. Another customer should be up shortly, and these things were best handled quickly. He plopped down onto the couch and pulled the black metal lockbox closer to him, accidentally knocking over his drink in the process. Sighing a lazy swear, he held a keycard to the scanner on the front of the case, and the locks slid open with a satisfying clunk. Inside the case were rows and rows of empty dripper phials. In the center of the case was a large circular container full of a swirling neon blue liquid.700-1000 Words a post, three each after this first introductory post to create a premise and setting - a night club in Markov. The Honourable Dadthulu presiding.
Ghast is what the streets called it. Nico sold it to club goers and "experimentally minded" college students by the phial for a pretty penny. A single dropper full mixed in a liquid of the user's choice will send them into a delirium the likes of which not even the most experienced of psychonauts have felt before. No truly negative or lasting side effects, just about 8 hours of a wild time. This shit was potent, and people loved it. A knock at the door, barely heard over the bass - duty calls.
The line outside the DreadNot almost stretched the length of the entire block, but nothing clears a crowd like an imposing figure and piercing visage. Ashe-0 had both of these things, and it was rather apparent she had somewhere to be as well. Every person waiting in line decided to waste their time elsewhere as she passed them, some alarm bell going off in the back of their heads as they caught sight of her. The bouncer too, decided it was closing time, and knew that he didn't have to go home but he couldn't stay there. The puny door frame could not manage the bulk of Ashe's own frame, so she simply walked right through it, causing quite a ruckus at the entrance to the club. The expansive dance floor before her was so preoccupied with itself that many dancers did not notice the newcomer. The few who did though stopped and stared, noticing the wrecked entrance she left behind her. Her visor swept the room, scanning for any traces of her target: a rare chemical required for necessary upgrades to her arsenal going forward. Calmly, she made her way to the center of the dance floor to get a better view, ignoring the slow to startle crowd. The DJ from his perch noticed the giant robot, but seeing as he was on a substantial amount of Ghast tonight, chose to keep the tunes coming even as some of the dancers began to sheepishly wander towards the exit.
Some fight club music if anyone is so inclined hehe