A motorcycle whizzed past vehicles, hovering at speeds begging for death.
Neon colors reflected and fused into a rainbow on the rider's helmet. Advertisements, road lights, and signs combined into a spiral of colorful shades, absorbed into Jani's pupil.
'Hate this! I hate this! Can't even get some peace to drink alone.'
The cold air assaulted his senses, the acceleration of his vehicle making its effect on his body known.
The bike sped up further and further, becoming a blur while maneuvering between levitating cars.
'I can't do this anymore! Maybe I should assault Megtex just so I can end up on the gallows for the fun of it!'
Unfortunately, if there was one thing Jani wouldn't do, it was die.
Killing the bike's engine and the sensory assault, Jani hopped off, scanning the place.
He was standing on a gravel parking lot, one of the only places in the city-nation not replaced by aluminum as a street material. It shifted beneath his feet, unnerving the hunter.
He saw a neon, disco ball shaped club.
The whole place was floating dozens of feet above ground, its gimmick being constantly switching locations.
A small metal platform descended from the disco. On it stood a familiar, short figure.
Seeing Jaxon, who was covered in blood, standing in front of the establishment, Jani assumed he was bloodletting so his body would weaken and alcohol could pierce his brain.
This notion was shattered when he realized Jaxon was bleeding from the cheek and not the standard vein.
'Oh dammit, he got into a fight.'
Jani walked over, yelling out:
"What do you need, Jax? Where's the emergency?"
Jaxon raised his head, walking over.
'Why do I need this? Why am I bothering with any of this? I have a personal deathmatch with Reginald-beast-Spectre lined up. Why am I not home slamming down a couple of—'
Jaxon pointed to the club, asking:
"Drinks?"
Jani thought he hadn't heard that right.
"Pardon?"
"I asked if you want to come with me for a couple of drinks."
Jani still thought Jax was pulling his leg.
"I don't have the money for this place. I doubt there's a shot here that is under 10 credits."
Jaxon lit an electric cigarette, its contents only hitting now because of the profuse bleeding. He relaxed, closing his eyes in bliss.
"I think you misheard me, Jan. I didn't ask whether you had money, I asked if you wanted to go for a couple of drinks."
Jani could think of a million answers to the question.
'Are you insane?' 'You bothered me for this?' 'I have to fight Reginald Spectre in less than three months, and you're calling me out for drinks?'
Instead, he simply sighed and said,
"Fine. But if it's on your tab, I'm drinking more than a couple."
Jax smiled, tapping his friend on the back.
Walking into the establishment, Jani pushed his lithe body through the crowd.
Behind him followed a white-haired man in a very unusual outfit, their hands brushing together.
'Must be some pretty good hair dye, thought he was a grandpa at first. And what even are those clothes? Doesn't seem like polyester or even anything Megtex-made to me.'
The guests were dressed in expensive, top-of-the-line clothing. Jani felt a little bare in comparison, wearing a simple trench coat and combat-ready pants.
The crowd was wildly jumping as they drank at small tables in groups. Rainbow lights flashed in sync with the obnoxious music, leaving Jani with a lack of excitement.
Looking around, the man asked Jaxon:
"Where's our table?"
"Just follow me. I have a booth rented out."
They entered into the private space, sinking into soft leather seating.
Next to Jani was a stack of crystal glasses and other premium items.
Opening the half-empty bottle and pouring himself a drink, Jani asked:
"Who was the unlucky lady?"
Jaxon raised an eyebrow, downing his already poured glass of wine before speaking.
"How'd you know I was on a date? And why unlucky?"
"You're in a dress shirt, inside a rented-out booth for two people, and for once in your life you don't reek, and you're drinking wine."
Jani summoned his cleaver and slashed his arm, having the blood pool into the bucket that once held ice.
"And for the record, she was on a date with you. She is anything but lucky."
Jaxon rolled his eyes dramatically, then pointed at his face.
"I only gave her a damn compliment, and she slapped me! Avatar of sharpness too, look at this! This is scarring for sure!"
"At least you'll have a cool scar. Might help you to not mess up with another ten girls in three months."
Pausing to consider the extent of Jaxon's bad luck with the opposite gender, Jani continued.
"What did you even say to her?"
Jax called the waiter over, ordering strong, opulent whiskey.
"I just implied she has a nice figure!"
Jani raised an eyebrow skeptically.
"In the front or the back?"
"Front."
Jani sighed, coping with his friend's inadequacies by drinking.
"And that's why you're maidenless. That, and you're uglier than an average Megtex executive."
"Ugh, you sound exactly like my ex."
Jaxon paused to clean up the blood staining his dress shirt and then continued.
"Speaking of exes, are you still with that Avatar of Peace chick or nah?"
Jani froze. The bitter alcohol stalled in his throat along with his next words.
Instead of the familiar burn, an uncomfortable cold embraced the man's being.
"She died, like, almost a year ago, man."
He didn't have the willpower to tell Jaxon the whole truth.
Jax's eyes widened, his mouth opening a bit as he stuttered out:
"Oh, oh, man, I—I really didn't know! I'm sorry, man, I only wanted to..."
"It's fine, just, let's just have fun."
Jax tried to keep the mood up, raising his glass up.
"To fun."
Jani raised his own glass upward wordlessly, hitting it against Jax's lightly.
For the next hour, the two men talked as the alcohol consumed their being.
By the end of it, Jax was lying on the booth couch sideways, while Jani was sitting on the floor, resting his head against the table, rambling about a series of incomprehensible, disgusting events.
"A…and do you know what the, um...the, uh, the peasant said...said after eating his own baby?"
Jax looked down with his half-lidded eyes, mumbling out a:
"What?"
"The aristocrats."
"Is—is, uhm, that the whole punchline?"
"Yeah."
Jax pulled himself up, standing up onto shaky legs.
"I'm—I'm going to go take a whizz."
"Alright."
Pulling himself onto the actual seat, Jani's world spun. His head felt heavier than iron, the world around him shaping into a perverse distortion of its natural state.
'Ugh...I'm so hammered...'
Then, a hand tapped his shoulder lightly. A mildly familiar face came into view, adorned with white hair.
"Hello, avatar of hunting. I am one of the three avatars of death, age. If you do not cooperate, you will be dead in exactly 86 seconds."