Sitting in the middle of the wasteland, Whiskey Town sat connected to 'civilization' by a deteriorating streak of paved black tar, littered with the husks of cars and burning barrels. Built atop the ruins of an indescriminate city, Whiskey Town was gigantic. The reason for it's size was given in the name - whiskey.
Drunkards littered the streets alongside their pet bottles of alcohol, stacks of empty glass on the sidewalk. These beer-stained streets were the only meaning of life to the drunks, wallowing in liver poison to drown out the pain of life.
Most repurposed ruins were converted into bars, brothels, and saloons. Ryder stopped the motorcycle infront one of the bars, a sign made from scrap metal reading 'JACK'S'.
"I know a guy here. Runs the joint." He explained.
As the doors flung open, Umbriel curiously looked around.
It was a casino-bar hybrid of sorts. Intoxicated men sat at tables littered with cards, roulettes, and dice. The joint reeked of alcohol and hygenic lacking, Umbriel's keen nose reeling in disgust. He fell in line behind Ryder, who strode up to the barside and slew his arm down casually onto it.
The bartender was a cat with a greenish, yellow hue. Dressed in a depressively colored vest, dress shirt, and dress pants, the only distinguishing features were old scars along his face and a red tie. Besides that, this alleycat blended right in with the painful grey ruin of the world.
"Welcome back, old friend." The cat gruffly remarked, cigarette dangling on his lips.
"You too, Nazzy~"
"Fuck's sake, you prick."
Nazzy grunted, cleaning out a glass. He took some unlabeled drink from the counter and poured it, setting it before Ryder. He glared at the shepherd's compny.
"You two pretty faces best not call me that. It's Nazar... or Naz."
"Way to introduce yourself," Ryder scoffed. "Naz, these lads are Umbriel and Setré."
"You cheatin' on me?" Naz joked.
"Sorry, can't help it." Ryder played along. "But seriously, these two're bent on going to the fissure. They also saved my ass from some grunts, figured I'd go with."
"I knew it was a matter of time before you lost it." Naz grunted.
"You're one to talk about sanity," Umbriel interjected. "You work at a bar admist lawless times."
"Tch, Jack's got a good law goin' on. Runs the show here."
"Speaking of Jack, I'd like to talk with him." Ryder questioned, but was cut off.
A patron sitting at the other end of the barside scoffed.
"Talk with her, ya mean..."
Naz's ears perked up at the comment, and he quickly drew a magnum at the patron. The joint quieted down a bit.
"Oi fuckface, Jack's a him."
"Didn't used to be."
"The world didn't used to be a disgusting mess filled with drunk shitheads like you, but here we are."
The patron grunted and stopped talking, conceeding. Naz withdrew his gun.
"I'll be damned. So Jack's pretty intent on making people respect him?" Setré asked curiously.
"You betcha ass he is."
"Well, Naz, back to what I was saying; where's Jack?" Ryder asked.
"Ugh. Follow me." Naz walked out from the barside, waving the trio to follow him.
YOU ARE READING
After.
Adventure[NEW NOTE: THIS IS NOT ABANDONED. I just have some other bustling ideas. And I feel my quality here is a bit TOO amateurish, and think I'll have to rewrite a lot. Which would be a gigantic undertaking.] An inexplicable, cataclysmic event's aftermath...
