Thousands of years after modern humanity wiped itself out due to a nuclear catastrophe, fantasy creatures, humans, and kalons alike, joined together to create a new generation. The buildings stand in defiance of the people who fell. Generations ago the streets were rivers of people night and day, now inhabited by an assortment of other species, creating a new generation.
A pall of smog hung over everything -- coughed up from countless engines and factories, veiling the walkers striding the narrow streets. The bewildering sky was empty of birds and those alike. There was misery in these streets, soaked into the sidewalk cracks and the graffitied walls. Even the stores that were once loaded with designer goods, now house everything for a meer dollar.
There are streets of up-market stores however. Sleek black exteriors paired with smooth glass paneling. Not to mention their fancy names in even fancier lettering. They’re the kind of places with perfumed atmospheres, made all the more inviting by music and well groomed subservient staff. Exchanging their tokens of the upper class life for the swipe of a credit card. Not here. Not and the "Ace of Clubs." It was a den of corruption and the great unwashed of the world.
The bar curved into the dark, barely lit room. Through the windows, the diamonds of lead panes, trickles the sallow light of street-lamps. A witch sat off in the far corner, taking a long drag of her cigarette. Her smoke twisted almost artistically, forming curls in the gloom, only to be illuminated by the age-speckled bar lights. Along the wall was every hue of amber liquid in their inverted bottles.
Music fills the air without effort, like the waves filling holes in beach sand; the sound rushing in and around every person in the room. Some react to the beat, others continue in chatter, but always speaking to them in some manner. The music rung in Kovan’s ears as he pushed past large groups of people, carrying a platter of drinks above his head, careful not to drop them. His eyes darted around, attempting to locate the person who had paid for the drinks he was carrying. He wore a tailored black suit with a charming back bowtie. His chiseled jaw lifted with a proud, pleasant smile. His eyes a sparkling red, so much like his parent’s, and his soft, feather-like black hair brushed away from his brow. He was charming and handsome for a young kit. His voice was that of any rich boy, honeyed and proud, but where he worked was no place for a rich boy.
A female kalon sat pretty in the corner, undoubtedly catching Kavon’s attention. She was accompanied by another woman, one who was obviously starved of attention. The dazzling kalon raised a finger, an obvious sign for him to head her way.
The female kalon leaned over the table, her long hair cascading over the shoulder of her sequinned dress. Her head rolled to one side, lips ever so slightly pursed. Even her perfume stood out; strong, and almost unbearable.
“Those are for me, doll,” she said, her tone soft.
Kovan nodded and smiled with ease as he quietly placed the drinks on the table, the amber liquid sloshing about in the glass as he sets it down.
“Thanks, dear,” The kalon murmured, barely audible over the deafening music. Nodding, Kovan went to turn away without another word, but the female called out to him once more.
“Kovan,” she sung, both sets of his eyes snapping back to focus on her.
“My...name, how do you know it?” Kovan questioned.
“How could I not? You’re the youngest rookie here at eighteen years old,” She began, twirling her hair in a seemingly absent-minded way while staring a hole through the kit. Kovan took a step back, intimidated by the female.
“A-and just who do you think you are, miss?” Kovan He stuttered out.
“I’m Dominik Petrov, a regular here. C’mon doll, you should know this by now,” Dominik purred, she enjoying toying with the kit.
“Relax Kovan, I’m only playing. How did someone of your mannerism end up in a place like this?” Dominik continued, tail flicking around playfully all while holding the other female closer.
Drink tray tucked under his arm, Kovan found himself quiet. He wouldn’t tell this woman why he was here. Once their eyes met, the soft expressions of only a few moments ago have evaporated. Kovan holds his gaze, but instead of the warmth of a friendly waiter, it is with an icy hostility. Dominik held her hands up in a friendly surrender as Kovan’s expression said it all. He was confused, and likely startled by her knowledge.
“Easy kid, no need to get all defensive, I don’t bite.” Dominik chuckled and took as slow sip of her drink, eyes never drifting far from Kovan.
“I think it’s best we go our separate ways now, Dominik,” Kovan said, gripping the tray under his arm, the flimsy plastic bending under his immense grip. His eyes narrowed, rigid, cold, hard. Kovan pivoted on his foot in the direction of the bar, eyes down. Embarrassed that he let his emotions get the best of him, the last thing he wanted was people being suspicious of him.
[878 words]
solid bg version of art
