Savage Nights II (Solo)(Explicit)

[Mok]

Winter 2, 10:22 am, someone's room somewhere in Sunberth

Mok sat around in circle, passing the bottle around. This was great. His skin was crawling. Breezing. When Mok was drunk, everything was better. He didn't have to worry about tomorrow. All he cared about was tonight. Living for the moment. IT was the big life and he was riding the most dangerous horse. Gin, whiskey, ale... it was all the same. As long as it got him drunk it was a good thing. His whole body was mixing in delight. His head swimming in the fishes.

Standing up, Mok felt the surge of blood smack him right in the face. IT felt like he just got rung in the face with a mean right hook. The myrian blacked out.

ZOOM!

The light came back on. Everything was great again. From what it seemed not much time had passed. By Mok's estimate he was out cold for only one or two seconds. To top that all off he was still standing. The half-blood laughed. It was the myrian blood in him. Yes! It was the savage beast the roamed within. There was no way he would die tonight. No sir.

Now that he was up, it was time to make progress with his life. Staking the first brave step forward, Mok stumbled to the floor. A big wide grin spread across his face. He just realized how much of a fool he looked like. No matter. There was no reason to fret right now. He had just come up big in the dice game. Right now, the drunken warrior was at the state of mind to be at.

Trying to stand up again, Mok stumbled again and found himself on his ass. Now he was determined to stand up., but laughter rose from all around him. No doubt all the rest of the company saw his drunken ass.

"P~petch...shit... Petch yo're a petchin' piec' o bahlk hauk! Pft! Human trash. Shit," Mok spitted drunkenly at the swirl of drunkards about him. His statement was only received with more laughter. Idiot peasants! They had no reason to laugh at him. No matter. The myrian would only ignore them. There was no sense talking sense into a damn Sunberthian. Talking sense was for the folks in Sylira.

Finally, Mok was able to stand firmly on his feet. His head felt like he got kicked by a horse, but other than that he was ready to get the hell out of the smoky room. Walking outside, the myrian suddenly felt the urge to "let loose", and in Sunberth that meant taking a huge petching crap in the middle of street. Anyways, Mok stumbles his way to the side of the building and leans his back against the wall. The myrian had to pick himself off the floor a few times, but he managed it. Dropping his breeches the myrian unloaded.

Red = Myrian
Bold = Common

[Mok]

Minutes later, the myrian was washing the shit off his hands in a horse trough. That really hit the spot. Just as he had finished wiping his hand, Mok felt liquid rushing up his sternum and throat. The drunkard's eyes bulged open as he vomited onto his chest. The vile liquid came out like a waterfall! Everything was covered in whiskey colored bile. Sticky and stinky it was. Disgusted the myrian cursed under his breath and proceeded to clean his face and armor.

"Blast it, damnit!" The disgruntled warrior yelped. He had gotten all the putrid vomit off his body, but he now smelled like the inside of [place another race here]. On the bright side though, Mok was now in a much better place. No longer in danger of alcohol poisoning, the myrian was good again.


Grooving. Breezing.

Mok returned back to the smoky room. The sound of drinking and laughter filled the in glorious respite. It was the perfect time to try the pulp he acquired the previous night. Although Mok owed the old man some miza, it didn't matter. That asshole wasn't anywhere to be found, so he was completely out. For now he wanted to try this new drug.

What would it do to him? What in the hell would happen to him? Ah, who cares? In due time he would find out.

Taking his place next to one of the boys, Mok sat a moment and listened to the conversation. Nothing special; the local gladiator was disimballed earlier by a new coming. It was quiet the uproar for those following the pit fighting scene. This discussion carried on for an hour. Back and forth, back and forth it went. The myrian remembered nothing of this talk. IT meant nothing. Just bunch of men bullshitting over some alcohol.

Then Mok proposed the question to the man that was next to him. Did he know this guy? Of course he did! Maybe he only met him a couple of hours ago, but he was too petched up to care. None of his fellow crimson edge were around. Petch it!

"Hey friend? What's good with it? You trying to get smoke with me outside?" Mok asked.

The grizzly bearded man responded in delight, "Shit man, you just read my mind. Hell let's go outside."

The myrian and the sailor stumbled outside the room only to be greeted by the blazing sun. Mok had no idea it was already morning. Before, when he was outside to take a piss, it was still dusk and the sun wasn't really up. Outside the door, somehow a pipe was produced and the tobacco was lit. The two posted up against the wall and started to converse.

"Hey, I appreciate the smoke. I really needed it." Mok said to the guy.

Laughing the bearded man responded, "No worries, I took it from that kid sitting in there. I figured he wouldn't miss it much."

"Good deal. Shit, well, what are you doing in your life right now?"

"Hell, I am just living life right now. Getting by day to day and not worrying about tomorrow. Hustling. Gambling. Drinking. You feel me? Living that life. The big life."

Mok's eyes glared up in delight. This guy understood exactly what Mok was going for. He was on point. Nothing else mattered to the myrian right now other than getting wasted. Laughing Mok responded, "Yes. Yes. Yes. Definitely. I am glad that we have come to an understanding, I feel that same way."

"Yup!" The drunken man chimed in as Mok said his piece, "Yup, yup, yup. I am glad we understand. You know how this city is-"

"Well, I've been here for a few seasons, nothing much, but I get that life. This is the place to live that life."

"Yup."

"Shit, what is your operation? What do you do to get mizah? You can't just live life...the big life... without the funds huh?"

"Hell you know me, you know me. I hustle here and there. I always have funds my friend. Always. Hustling my friend hustling."

Passing the tobacco pipe, Mok realized that it was not the right question to ask. One did not ask questions like that in Sunberth. When drinking in the taverns, it was not a good idea to get into people's business. Mok realized his mistake and corrected himself, "For sure. I feel you man. Nothing else needs to be said."

A moment of awkward silence filled the air, but the Mok's new companion broke the ice, "No worries my friend, no worries."

"Let me tell you about this one time 'mack. One time I was at the bar and someone smashed my face with a glass mug. Well it was more like the back of my head. It hurt, I tell you, but I still gave him a good fight. Crazy shit happens here in Sunberth for no reason. ITs funny ya know?"

The man chortled in response, passing the tobacco pipe back for the myrian's enjoyment, "Listen, I know exactly what you mean. Don't get me wrong though. If anyone disrespects me, I will not hesitate. But hell, I am not going to pick a fight just to pick a fight. You feel me? I am a really breezy guy; I am easy to get along with. But don't petch with me, because I will petch you back, you feel me."

"Yup, I feel you, but I don't agree-"

"Hold on, listen to this. One day. One day right? I was spending the night down at tall Johnny’s. Shit we were bounding booze. I'm a whiskey guy myself. It gets me alert. Well anyways, we're drinking and shit and my buddy is making a lot of cash right? And he take a few hundred gold mizah home with him right? Then outside my buddy is counting his profits you see. Profits he won fair and square. No mischief, I swear on it. Next thing you know the man he was playing card with appeared outside, but he is fucking pissed. Whoopty-wooo, la-la-la, the guy said. He was talking down on my friend. Calling him a cheat and a scoundrel in front of the whole crowd. Now listen to me-"

The myrian piped in, "Yup, yup, I feel you man, I feel you man. I know what type of hooligan you are. I know you didn't let that stand."

"Damn straight we didn't," the grizzled man continued, "Once that man said his piece there was no more time to parley. It was straight up war at the time. His boys versus us. Stupid idiot’s petching with us. We strung those fools right up and made them an example to anyone who tried to petch with us again at Tall Johnny’s."

"Yup. Yup."

The bearded man continued, "And I'll tell you what though, I live that life man. You know exactly what I am talking about that life."

Mok laughed, "I completely understand where you are coming from, but I don't think you can understand me. No way."

Awkward silence suddenly entered the room. The silence was suffocating. Mok wasn't sure if he had low key insulted him or what. The myrian was way too wasted to make any judgments. He could only take the man's word for it. Then it hit him. Why not invite him to smoke the pulp he obtained earlier. Perfect. This was the optimum time to use it. He was up and feeling great. Mok had nothing to worry about. It was time to dabble his feet for the first time with the pulp.

"Listen my friend. What do you know about pulp? I have never tried it." Mok broke the silence.

The bearded man's face lit up, "Oh, you trying to get some? I would be up direct you for the hook you up with some crop."

Drunk and foolish Mok invited the man to take some drugs with him. A man he barely knew. "Listen guy, I got some good pulp here. Why don't we try it together?"

"Would I ever! Of course. Hell let's head someplace else man and we can get it on."

"Good deal." And with that the strange man and Mok walked away from the unknown building.

Red = Myrian
Bold = Common

[Mok]

12:17 PM, The Sunset Quarter

Before Mok knew it, he was navigating through the dirtiest slum in all of Mizahar. The asshole of the world. A floating piece of human trash. Any man or woman who grew up here was a hard motherpetcher. Everyone had a cold look in their eyes. Not pride, but a look of solidarity. They knew what was up. They understood each other.

There were different rules on these streets. Conflicts were resolved with fists and not words. One learns their place in the Sunset within minutes of stepping on its turgid soil. If you don't belong, someone will find you quick. The Sunset quarter was the extreme.

Luckily, though, Mok fit in. He played the part. The native Sunberthians obviously saw that he wasn't the perfect piece, a foreigner, but the myrian still lodged his presence in there. Recollecting his first step into this area of the city, Mok let out a cruel laugh. The work he did on the guy who tried to mug him and the fact he didn't petch with anyone afterword was his defining action. Mok basically had his foot in the door after that incident. A whole season later and the myrian was a common sight in the quarter.

Navigating the streets of the quarter were very tricky. People who don't know what they are doing get lost in a heartbeat! Even after all the time Mok had spent traversing the area, he still only a rough idea of what to look for. Everything in his mind was a landmark. He just looked for corners and things that would be permanently fixed into his mind. His mind was like a rough haze: always left at the hog cages....find the orphanage if you are lost...keep way from the sketch doors...all of these little rules Mok was starting to pick up as he walked.

Mok's head was always on a swivel around here. Scanning and scanning. Always turning a shoulder at every intersection to see the other traffic. It was important that he knew his surroundings at all times. Even though he was drunk, he could still function fairly well.

The guy he was following on the other hand was quick and fast. To Mok's advantage this guy knew all the safe back cuts. Following the alley down from the Orphanage, this guy showed Mok a fence he could crawl under to cut right through a major part slums. Instead of spending a minute to run around, you could cut right through to the heart of the apartment sections. Mok registered this fact into his mind.

Continuing their journey at a jog, Mok was completely lost now. His frame of reference as completely lost now. No matter, he knew that he we west of the orphanage.

Finally the two reached the building, "Alright man this is it. Come in now, come in now, lets not stand around eh?"

Up until now, non had utter a word on the journey. They were too many peeps and listening ears in Sunberth to talk on the run. All you need to do is say the wrong thing when your passing by the wrong person to ruin your evening.

The side of the building had four doors, but the man openned the third one. Inches from the door was a staircase going up to the second floor. Before the myrian began to climb, the guy showed him a little door on the wall. It was small enough for Mok to duck, but he could still move comfortably. Going through a dark tunnel, Mok found himself in a private alley next to the apartment. It was full of old junk.

All the way down the alley was a door with another set of staircases.

"Your going to love this place. No one can see the entrance from the streets so no one pester'sus, you feel me."

Mok paused then churttled a response, "Yup.Yup."

"Alright, let me just get this bitch unlocked....alright lets go in."

Red = Myrian
Bold = Common

[Mok]

12:38, a hidden pulp den the heart of the quarter

The first thing that caught Mok's eye was the fact that the building was clean. Well, cleaner than a typical apartment in this part of city. In fact there were very few items at all in the whole place. It was also very big. Basically it was two whole apartment converted into a sort of house.

Walking up a flight of stairs, Mok was greeted with a thin haze of smoke. The walls were alternating blue and green. The floor was made of hard wood with a huge old rug laid across the middle. There was no furniture, just three of four wooden boxes. The fire pit had around five smoldering coals Other than some folded up blankets, that was it. The light source of the room was a balcony with beige curtains.

"This here is Roger...Sam...Magner is over there...and of course Old Tony," the man introduced them as. Come to think of it, Mok didn't even know his guide's name.

"Roger...Sam...Magner...Tony...Mok," The myrian introduced himself to each man with a curt nod. All these men were sitting on the floor and they responded in similar fashion.

"I see that Stringer 'ere 'as gotten a new frien' for us." Tony chimmed in after introductions, "Where didja ya find this guy, boy?"

Stringer responded with hateful glee, "Shutup you svefran motherpetcher. I should kick your ass out!"

Tony just burst into a deep rolling laughter. Magner laughed too. Sam on the other hand was lost in thought. Roger was laughing too, but not at situation, he too was off in his own world.

Mok knew not to say anything. He can argue with an old cat. "Wisdom" beats logic in Sunberth. He was older than Mok and therefor knew more. Or at least that was the prevailing thought. Plus, there was no arguing with such a man.

The myrian could do something though. He could whip out the pulp. He knew that would calm everyone's nerves. He sat and waited for the opportune moment to chime in.

"I have some Pulp," Mok said as he showed the group the little box he had.

Tony jumped from the floor in delight once he saw the box, "Sweet bosom of Ovek! 'Ere did ya get that? I'll tell ya exactly wha's in that box! Nine times outta then 'nd I have never failed to guess it right. That is the Night Eye' secret stash, their most potent and powerful plant. Trust me, boy, this shit will kick you in the face. 'Ere you get this boy, tell me!"

"Made a deal with this guy. What of it?" Mok responded.

"I was jus' wandering 'cause this shit is hard to come by, you feel me. They don't just give it away--"

"Shut the petch up Tony! Your a petching nuisance. Just leave the man in peace." Stringer chimmed in.

"Don't you interrupt me again you snot nosed little piece of shit! I'll skin you alive if you disrespect me like that again!"

Stringer wouldnt stop though, "Calm down. Are you listening to yourself? Your trippin'."

"Oi!" Mok yelled, "Can we just start using this here Pulp? I am trying to do this now boys."

"Here, here. I agreed," said Magner. The other two were still lost.

"Alright then, give me that here box. Ill prepare it for you--"

"No thanks, just tell me how much of it you need to make it proper for all of us," Mok protested.

"Alright. I need about half of the box to make a potent mix for all of us. But
Roger and Same are gone, so we only need enough for four... I could use around two fifths of the box and conjure up something really intense."

"Agreed. Go big or go home," Stringer commented.

"Fine. Prepare it." Mok agreed.

Red = Myrian
Bold = Common