Midnight Jaunt: Disappointment Alley
It's been seven years since the plague of Disappointment was unleashed on the world. Ever since then, the world has descended into apocalyptic madness. Stores were destroyed and looted, towns were abandoned, and war descended upon the civilians. The only thing that remained the same was the futuristic city of Los Angeles.
Two factions emerged from bloody battle. On one side, the high and mighty Spire, authoritarian figures whose home base is the biggest skyscraper in the city, led by an unknown figure. The Spire manages to strike fear in the hearts of civilians, and the anonymous leader is considered one of the most powerful figures alive.
The Guild is led by your old friend Dr. Satan. The whole city and its people are currently under control of the Spire, but the Guild is an underground resistance group trying to overthrow the Spire and live in peace.
And the powder keg that'll make the whole city blow? The Disappointment. It's spreading, infecting anyone it can with its deathly blue glow. There's a lot to fear in this hellscape of a city.
You don't know why you did this massive internal monologue.
The city illuminates with a flash of lightning as you stroll down the street, whistling the Poland national anthem. The bright lights of the city loom in the distance as you walk along the border of the nation, a quiet avenue near the forest. City life is always the same: a place where the best and worst of mankind is displayed, where death is just another daily risk, where crime is a part of the culture and nowhere is safe. You wonder why you are thinking about this, because you aren't even there.
As the clock strikes 1 AM, you approach your favorite bar: the Tub Pub. You push open the creaky door and step onto linoleum tiles as the sound of running water and dozens of singing voices hits your ears. The bar is filled with people in bathtubs, drinking alcohol while cleaning themselves up. There's enough soap bubbles to cover their bodies, but they always manage to run into a problem when they remember they have to get out and walk to the towels on the other side of the room when they're done. You look down and notice a trail of wet footprints, combined with teardrops, leading to the towels. It's labeled WALK OF POOR JUDGEMENT.
You approach the bar itself and wait for the bartender to arrive.
He arrives. Good job being patient.
He happily extends a hand to shake as you read his name tag. "FINGERLESS FRANK". You look down and see that he indeed has no fingers, as implied by the name tag. You opt for a fist bump instead.
"What can I get for ya?" Frank says jovially, as his arm begins to fall off.
Two factions emerged from bloody battle. On one side, the high and mighty Spire, authoritarian figures whose home base is the biggest skyscraper in the city, led by an unknown figure. The Spire manages to strike fear in the hearts of civilians, and the anonymous leader is considered one of the most powerful figures alive.
The Guild is led by your old friend Dr. Satan. The whole city and its people are currently under control of the Spire, but the Guild is an underground resistance group trying to overthrow the Spire and live in peace.
And the powder keg that'll make the whole city blow? The Disappointment. It's spreading, infecting anyone it can with its deathly blue glow. There's a lot to fear in this hellscape of a city.
You don't know why you did this massive internal monologue.
The city illuminates with a flash of lightning as you stroll down the street, whistling the Poland national anthem. The bright lights of the city loom in the distance as you walk along the border of the nation, a quiet avenue near the forest. City life is always the same: a place where the best and worst of mankind is displayed, where death is just another daily risk, where crime is a part of the culture and nowhere is safe. You wonder why you are thinking about this, because you aren't even there.
As the clock strikes 1 AM, you approach your favorite bar: the Tub Pub. You push open the creaky door and step onto linoleum tiles as the sound of running water and dozens of singing voices hits your ears. The bar is filled with people in bathtubs, drinking alcohol while cleaning themselves up. There's enough soap bubbles to cover their bodies, but they always manage to run into a problem when they remember they have to get out and walk to the towels on the other side of the room when they're done. You look down and notice a trail of wet footprints, combined with teardrops, leading to the towels. It's labeled WALK OF POOR JUDGEMENT.
You approach the bar itself and wait for the bartender to arrive.
He arrives. Good job being patient.
He happily extends a hand to shake as you read his name tag. "FINGERLESS FRANK". You look down and see that he indeed has no fingers, as implied by the name tag. You opt for a fist bump instead.
"What can I get for ya?" Frank says jovially, as his arm begins to fall off.