#(Considering my Sun Child mainly fights in Hand To Hand this fit really perfectly for him!

[transcending-chaos]

I really enjoy your art and find your headcanons for the creatures both interesting and somehow fitting despite there not being a lot of information about them. But I am curious, do you have any headcanons for each tribe in general?

(I got this question a while ago; using it now because my hands hurt too much to draw right now. Thank you for your patience.)

UnderWorlders

Those that live in areas like UnderWorld City, the Lava Pond, or places where the air is largely filled with sulfur gas have less of a sense of smell and taste than most other UWs. Scent isn’t as viable in those regions because it’s largely masked by the gases that spout from the ground. However, because this means that those Creatures have stunted olfactory senses, this is why they typically spice the heck out of their food (and you can sort of smell it in the air once you get used to the sulfur). They can’t taste most things without it, especially sweet-things, so most of their cooking is often really strong -be it simple dishes, to feasts, to really hard alcohol. This lack of taste is especially true in the Creatures that breathe fire, as they have fewer nerves in their mouth and tongues as a whole due to the extreme temperatures their bodies have been made to withstand.

Related to that last point, it’s why their hygiene seems a little lacking in comparison to the other Tribes. While they can certainly feel grime, they don’t smell it as much, and besides, water is a very rare resource for them so they’re not going to waste it with superfluous bathing.

UnderWorlders are strangely possessive of their Humans. Though most don’t outwardly show it (because that broadcasts something that could be used against them), those that have ‘wards’ or connections to Players will absolutely destroy something in order to protect them. If given the opportunity, most UnderWorlders would leap at the chance to have someone study under them (kind of like how Grook did with Kaz), as training is usually a social behavior shared not only among students and teachers, but friendly sparing between family members is somewhat of a culturally sacred thing. However, most are aware that they’d likely kill a Player if this was attempted.

Von Bloot was never a respected leader; his army was made of conscripts and people forced into a situation where they had no other choice. That being said, most are also dissatisfied that Chaor took so long to do something about him, as well as the fact that he wasn’t the one who finally got Von Bloot in the end. There’s a bit of a power-vacuum in the southern UW after he’s gone. 

Some UnderWorlders would swear that they can feel Fire in a few Players. This is part of the reason Chaor has not outright wiped Tom from existence (the other part being that his human is too attached to him). 

Danians

Danians are surprisingly adept at playing music and making instruments. Because of their connection to each other, it’s easy for them to harmonize sounds together and create layered symphonies that are perfectly in time with one another. They specialize in percussion, be it stamping of the feet, steel drums, or humming to make a beat. Also, younger Danians have a tendency to chitter or hum without realizing it. It’s pretty common to find their designated part of the Hive thrumming with sound, even in the dead of night. It’s a calming noise for the soldiers who can’t sleep, as it sounds entirely of contentment, and those with insomnia have a small medical barracks next to it so that they can be lulled asleep.

While uncommon, some Danians crave physical affection. Most have a pretty steely demeanor, but those with softer sides are usually the ones you can find befriending Players. Their culture isn’t too big on affection as a whole, so when encountering Humans (who as a species are aggressively social), it was like striking gold. These Danians tend to favor younger Players, as they are commonly predisposed to protect those they know cannot help themselves. 

Most Battle-Masters have a (mostly) one-way connection to the Hive. They can send out orders, but it’s hard for them to receive messages unless it’s from the Queen or her personal entourage. This is because they often have to make choices that will end up costing lives, and they don’t have the sense of solidarity most other Danian classes do. While many Mandiblors will provide solace to one another because they feel the loss and rift that fallen left behind, Battle-Masters typically don’t. After all, who wants to mourn when you’re the reason that they’re gone? Instead, you need to focus on the next fight and prevent such a thing from happening again.

Needless to say, that last point is a huge contention between Muges in the Hive and the generals. One focusses mainly on how things are connected, while the other is fundamentally incapable of understanding it. 

They detest spiders. All of them. “Nothing holy would create something with that many eyes.”

Mipedians

Typically seen as the most wealthy of the Tribes, Mipedians are totally unmotivated by most commodities, but are very willing to trade for food. As they live in a literal desert, it’s hard for them to grow much of anything, even in the oasis areas. Cactuses are farmed in some places, but for the most part they rely solely on imports. The biggest provider is the OverWorld, and strangely enough, no matter how bad things get between the Tribes, this agreement is never threatened (Maxxor has never considered starving them, nor would he dare entertain the idea; he refuses to punish an entire nation because their leaders aren’t being reasonable) which is a contrast to how how the arrangements between the Mipedians and the other two Tribes. 

Wearing chimes is a very common practice among most ordinary citizens. Not only does the metal heat up nicely in the sun, but it’s a way for parents to hear where their kids are. Most families will have their chimes tuned to a certain chord. Markets and bazaars are not only an amazing experience for the eyes, as seeing glittering scales, silks, and fantastic wares, but also for the ears due to the pleasant clinking of jewelry.

Mipedians have community sunbathing sessions. Towns have them at different times and days from one another, but it’s usually the highlight of the week. Typically, it’s just after the highest point of sun in the sky until dusk (though officials and soldiers leave only after about an hour or two). After that there are campfires in the night and shared potluck styled banquets. It’s great for community morale, as well as a grounding measure for those working in their political structure to see their subjects as people and interact with them as such instead of just ‘subjects.’ If one’s in the desert at night and there’s no breeze, you might hear jovial laughter and smell food on the wind. 

This is also a way of helping guide lost travelers home. It has saved many poor wanderers of all Tribes, and is the one time outsiders won’t be taken into custody immediately. 

OverWorlders

They’re the only Tribe with multiple classes and schools of Muge: Naturalists, Hunes, Archivists, and war-Muges. Naturalists are typically those who rely on elemental abilities, study the connections of the natural world, and believe that everything has innate tethers to the Cothica (something that’s rejected by the other schools). Hunes are primarily scholars or political figures, often trying to find out the nature of Mugic itself, demystify it, as well as create their own sphere of influence in the public. Archivists are like Najarin, where they take a primarily historically and anthropological view of Mugic, the world, and how things have changed. War-Muges are just those who learn to cast in order to use it in battle.

They’re the only Tribe that has territory that has other sovereign nations within it. The Gherix, Zeorn, and a whole host of others all occupy pieces of land within the vast realm, and many have diplomats stationed in Kiru. Also, if the Frozen weren’t ever intended to be a Tribe, I think they were just a society of OW Creatures that lived up higher than Glacier Plains (however it seems like they were meant to be their own thing, but this is kind of what I default to when making AUs where there are other Tribes occupying the 6th and 7th spots).

The monarchy in the OverWorld isn’t a typical monarchy. When in times of war, the council will elect a monarch as a tie-breaking vote that can veto or agree to motions set before them by other groups. Maxxor didn’t get the position because of his father, and in fact, he’s a better politician and negotiator that his dad. His father was a better general and warrior though, and this is something older council members will use to needle him when unhappy with him. 

OverWorlders have a strange superstition when it comes to twins. Many see it as a single entity that was split in half because the whole was “too bright a light to burn on its own” meaning that it likely would have only led a brief life that, while prosperous and happy, would unravel rapidly and severely. Most consider twins a blessing because of this, as it’s seen as a way of sparing the family from having to bury a child earlier than expected. 

Most villages have ‘moon pendulums’, or a set of stones on chains that trace the orbit of the three moons over a huge pit of sand or gravel. It’s essentially a lunar calendar that helps them keep track of the holidays. Some have special stones of different colors or that glow in the dark, just as a way of making sure no one bumps into it at night. 

[ecotone99]

[RF] The Muse Three Doors Down

Pulling into the driveway felt like the first drag of a spliff after a tiring day. It’s one of those moments where you switch realms. It was a transition from a mundane upper-class neighborhood into a pristine lakefront oasis, and it never ever got old.

“You got here fast,” Sully said as the car door opened. Nick, still disoriented from the view and the non-stop two-hour drive, emerged to greet him. The driveway wrapped around the side of the house, with Lake Butler about 50 feet from where the driveway ended, next to the beach volleyball court; Sully was staying in the guest house, which opened onto the driveway and a quaint picnic bench/sun umbrella setup, which they had stolen from a pizza shop years ago. It was one of those places where you stay once and never really want to leave, which was what Sully had been doing since graduation, and Nick couldn’t blame him. He had no real occupation to speak of, but here he was king of his own realm — natural lakefront view, 60-inch TV, proximity to a mid-size city, and of course a boat. It was paradise by anyone’s standards, and he was just lucky enough to have a blood relation to the owner.

“Well, that’s what happens when you do 85 the whole way.” Nick dribbles out, stretching in hopes of shaking off last night’s episode. The hangover, combined with the confinement of the ride, had him grasping at singular thoughts. “Well, I’m glad you called this morning. I needed an excuse to party. I just got an oil shipment from Colorado, and I need to whoop your ass in FIFA again. Not to mention this Tinder chick wants to hang tonight, and she said she could bring a friend,” He lingered on the last word, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Nick fiddled with the coin in his pocket and rebutted “Whoa whoa whoa. First of all, I torched you in FIFA last time I was here. You just can’t accept that. And second, that’s always the famous last words before we go out. ‘Oh yeah bro, she’s bringing a friend and she said she’s so hot’ and then flash forward to 11 pm, when it turns out her friend is a sophomore at Valencia State College, who’s trying to focus on her social media presence, has ‘the cutest’ Pomeranian, and is 20lbs heavier than her Facebook pics.’”

“…….so you don’t wanna go?”

Nick paused for a second, then shrug apathetically, “I mean, no. I’m down for whatever. Just saying. Alternatively, if we’re going near Lake Eola, Victoria and her rave friends will most likely be around, so that’s always Plan B.”

They head inside, and Sully brings out the hash oil at his desk. He ignites the souffle torch and begins heating the bowl of his Winnie the Pooh bong. The whole scene resembled the office of a Mexican cartel’s lawyer, Nick thought; loose papers neatly strewn across the surface, with a special compartment below for the illicit articles. Nick portioned off the tiniest piece of wax onto the dabber, as he knew well the potency of the oil Sully liked to smoke. But resistance was futile because as the flowing, transparent yellow wax melted onto the glass, and he inhaled, his mind and any semblance of a care melted with it.

After multiple games of FIFA and Super Smash Bros, Nick needed a change of scenery from Sully’s surprisingly dark guest house, so they changed into boardshorts and headed out on the lake with the paddleboards. It was a perfectly clear day, the type where a cloud would not dare defile such a virgin sky. The wind was light but constant, blowing parallel down the shore, but that didn’t matter; they were stoned on the beauty of the landscape, and all they wanted to do was catch up on each other’s lives.

“So, what’s the plan now? I mean, you’re living large in George’s guest house, but what’s next?” Nick asked, not really probing for an answer, but trying to reconnect with the person he’d shared a bathroom with for three years.

“I don’t know. I don’t wanna get a bullshit job in insurance or something like that. I’d just get bored and end up loathing everyone in the office, one-by-one systematically, until I blackout at the Christmas Party and try fighting some the office manager’s husband.”

“I mean, that’s basically the American dream” Nick added sarcastically

“I was thinking I might go to law school, considering I know the law so well with my multiple run-ins,” Sully continued. He had been carefully taking out a cigarette and lighter from a plastic sandwich bag that also held his phone, taking every precaution balancing over the water, but still smoothly executing the maneuver; he did it with the practiced ease of a longtime smoker and frequent wakeboarder, the perfect balance of aplomb and cravenness. “I could see that, and I’ve heard that you can have up to three DUI’s and still get accepted to the bar.”

“Yeah, that’s one reason I’m looking at it, but my GPA from FSU sucks, so I think I’m gonna take private-eye classes and work in that industry for a minute to fill up on my resume with relevant experience.”

“Really? Like a Private Investigator? Do a fedora and trench coat come with the class, or is that sold separately?”

“Ok, but like, I need something to do, and I’ve always been pretty good at investigating people, so I thought, why not?”

In truth, he had. One of Sully’s notable skills was stalking social media and piecing together true but farfetched theories about disloyalty to argue with his girlfriends. It was a common trait from children of divorce and made relationships difficult. Nick related to this and tended to overlook his complex attitude towards women, as it never really affected their friendship in any way, and it made good conversation after the fact.

Drifting idly, the hash oil had erased any perception of time and space. They laid on their boards under the dry spring sun and floated down the lake with the wind, letting the ease of the day wash over them. After what seemed like hours, Nick was jolted awake when he rolled over and saw they were about to be blown into a dock. They stood up and tried to paddle against the wind back to the middle of the lake, but were effortlessly pushed back toward the shore. Eventually, they began paddling along the shoreline, just outside the end of each dock, using them as cover from the violent wind whenever possible. This went for about 20 docks — Nick still had no concept of time — until Sully shouted that they could take a break at his neighborhood’s public dock up ahead. They rounded the final dock, and maneuvered onto the shore, beaching their paddleboards and jumping off to catch their breath. Nick went about securing his paddle to the board and going for a drink of coconut water in the small cooler in tow, casually asking Sully for details about the rest of the journey and their whereabouts. He shot back curt answers, and when Nick turned to ply him for more information, he observed Sully was talking with a girl that had been standing onshore the whole time — Nick was utterly unaware of her presence while they “made landfall,” but once he caught sight of her… holy shit.

She was immaculate. Nick had run into many beautiful girls during his time at FSU, and most were attractive, wearing makeup and outfits that made them look gorgeous, but once those layers had been shed, they were merely pretty. This girl, on the other hand, was absolutely stunning; while only wearing a workout outfit including yoga pants and a semi-loose fitting t-shirt, she looked like a goddess. Her flowing golden blonde hair hung down to the middle of her back, and was pulled up in a meticulous ponytail, utterly smooth without a single hair misplaced; its gossamer mass swished with her level of excitement in the conversation. Her face was sunkissed and vibrant, just as anyone under the age of 25 looks in Florida, but her body was what shook Nick. She was petite yet muscular; her toned lower abs produced a contour through the yoga pants – something Nick thought could only be conjured in Photoshop, and not in the physical world. She was immaculate, but he paid no attention.

“This is my friend Nick,” Sully said, gesturing to him as he drank the coconut water he had bought at a Fort Pierce gas station earlier. Nick surmised that it had been at least two hours since they smoked, and he still hadn’t come down. So he did what he always does when he was uncomfortably stoned in social situations: stayed mostly silent.

“Nice to meet you,” Nick said, unsure how to proceed any further. Still in a fog, Nick also noticed that she was not alone, as a little girl around the age of 7 and a dog with a curly blonde coat were splashing along the shore — some sort of golden lab-poodle mix, Nick was sure of it.

Sully continued to chat, and Nick began to infer they were neighbors and had met once or twice before. While they talked, Nick paid little attention, mainly watching the child play with her dog, and as the coconut water lost its refreshing appeal in the warmth of the day, he switched to cold beer. Nick stood there drinking, and couldn’t help but feel a warm sense of joy fill his stomach as he watched this admittedly adorable little girl playing with her happy-go-lucky dog while their beautiful 20-something babysitter watched over them. Nick thought he was watching a Hallmark TV movie, but really, he was just violently high.

Suddenly, the little girl marched up to him, while Sully and her babysitter were engaged in light but entranced conversation, and declared with authority, “Do you want to buy some Girl Scout Cookies?”

“Uhm, let me think…. Of course. I would like two boxes of thin mints, but I don’t have any money with me.” Nick said, trying but failing to match her level of cuteness.

“Oh yeah, her Girl Scout troop is having their cookie sales, and the competition is fierce.” The babysitter said, “We can just drop off the cookies at your house after we leave, and you guys can just pay later.”

They both politely declined in unison, but she insisted, and since it was Girl Scout Cookies, and they were stoned, they quickly gave in. A few minutes later, the little girl sneakily climbed on the beached paddleboard and was pretending to ride, using her arms to “balance.” Nick leaned over from his beer and whispered, “You want to take it out?”

The little girl nodded emphatically, and without the babysitter noticing, gently pushed the paddleboard off the beach. She then shot a look at the babysitter, and then back at Nick, showing a wry smile and letting out a hushed giggle. The warm joy in Nick’s stomach began to grow as she repeated this process, maneuvering zigzag into the water, and out to the middle of the alcove.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” the babysitter said, laughing casually when she saw the little girl kneeling on the paddleboard in the water. The dog had been barking excitedly at the little girl, clearly wanting a turn. After one lap to the middle of the dock, the little girl went back to shore, where the dog jumped on, and they floated about the water, detailing the perfect picture of what a full life would look like. This movie had a great writing staff, Nick thought to himself.

Eventually, he woke from this blissful daze and realized they had been standing on that shore for the better part of 30 minutes — he was finally coming down. He looked at Sully, and the girl talking with each other and had a feeling this was no longer a neighborly conversation. There was something more here, and after spending years observing Sully, Nick knew this was going to lead to an exciting conclusion.

“So, you live nearby?” Nick said, trying to get his facts straight.

“Yeah, I live like 10 houses down from here, in the brown one opposite the lakefront houses,” She said, her velvet ponytail bobbing as she spoke. “I’m living with my parents, but they’re actually in Aspen right now.”

“She lives like catty-cornered from me,” Sully clarified, trying to give me a frame of reference, as well as conveying that any late-night hangout would be very convenient.

“Yeah, it’s pretty boring. I’ve been cooped up inside all week watching these two. Don’t get me wrong, I love them and all, but I need a break.” Nick got hung up on her being cooped up with the little girl all week. Was it her sister? Why would she be babysitting all week?

“What are you guys doing tonight?” Her innocuous inquiry seemed to jut out into the conversation.

“We’re going downtown, probably start at Church St and then wander from there. You should come. We’re thinking of doing some dancing too”, Sully rattled off. It came to him with such ease, like Harry Potter speaking Parcil Tongue , sounding so smooth, yet sinister when out of context.

“Well funny enough, I do actually have plans to go downtown with one of my girlfriends tonight. We were gonna go to Stardust. Have you guys ever been there?” This is precisely the response Nick was expecting, and yet he was still genuinely surprised the conversation had gotten this far.

“Is that the place below World of Beer on the lake?” Nick interjected.

“Yeah, it is. Have you been?”

“I’ve never been, but a friend of mine lives right next door, above the wine bar.” Sully shot Nick a look, knowing that’s where Victoria lived.

“It’s a great place, I love it! They play disco, and 80’s pop hits, so it’s perfect for dancing, and last time we went, the owner kept giving us free shots.” She exclaimed, but still maintaining her poised cheerfulness. “If you guys are in the area, you should come by.”

“Yeah, for sure.” Sully said with calm intent, “What’s your number? I’ll text you when we finish pregaming at our buddy’s place.” They exchanged numbers, and Nick thanked God one of them had brought their phones.

She rounded up the little girl and dog, and floated up the shore and along the mulch path to the street, lofting back a “See ya later.” Once she turned the corner, Nick hazily turned to see Sully, who was wearing his signature shit-eating grin. Nick paused for a second with a puzzled look on my face, then all at once blurted out “Dude… what the FUCK just happened?!”

Sully responded simply with, “Right!”

“No, but seriously, who the fuck is she and how is she so goddamn beautiful? I know you’ve said there something in the water around here that makes girls crazy hot, but this is something different enti…” Nick trailed off, still perplexed at the events that took place. “Ok, first answer me this: is that little girl her sister, or is she like a live-in au pair? I couldn’t figure it out.”

“That’s her kid, bro,” Sully stated, emphasizing each word as he said them.

“…wait, she’s a mom?” Nick questioned, not able to deal with the information he was just given.

“Yeah, man. Apparently, she was married to the lead singer of the Muse, and they had a kid, but recently got divorced, so she moved back in with her parents here and has been like working out the divorce shit I guess. I met her a month ago when I was running the neighborhood.”

“Two things. First, you were running? Outdoors?”

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to lose some extra pounds I’ve put on since graduation.”

“Okay, fair enough. Second, what the actual fuck? You can’t be serious? So she’s essentially a single MILF that just happens to live three doors down from you.” Nick asserted, grasping for answers to this dizzying realization.

“Yeah, bro, I know. I kept going out for runs, hoping to see her, but never did until just now.” Sully confessed.

They got back on their boards and paddled back to Sully’s house, but Nick’s mind had not left that shoreline. He was reexamining the events in this new light and felt remorse and kinship. She seemed so well composed for a single mother going through a divorce, he thought. She was moving on, having the time and resources to pursue a second act in life. She had taken what she had left — her health, her child, her youth — and tried again. Maybe talking to them, who had no predispositions, is precisely what she was looking for. If he were in that situation, that moment of normalcy would be enough to sustain him for a few weeks. It was also enticing to ponder why she would want to go out with young men like themselves. He could already see the dim ending pursuing that notion would have, but nevertheless, follow it they did.

The rest of the journey was dull in comparison, as the wind had died down, and the house wasn’t that much farther. Once they arrived, they brought the boards up and were sitting at Sully’s picnic bench when he got a text.

“Left a present at the front gate :-)”

Simultaneously confused and giddy, Sully went to check it out and came back with a box of Girl Scout Cookies. They were beside themselves. “Holy shit, this is huge.” Nick bellowed. “Like, I couldn’t tell who she was hitting on between us. I’m down for a threesome if you are, only if we can hold hands, though.”

“Ok, pull back from a sec there bud. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m obviously down for anything, but let’s play out the situation first.” Sully said through the cigarette in his mouth, trying to keep his cool. “I’ll start texting her, and we can say we're gonna see where the night takes us.”

“…but in reality, we are beelining for that bar as soon as we’re sufficiently hammered, right?” “Yeah, duh.”

They watched as the sun began to dip below the horizon, sending iridescent beams of red, gold, and pink across the mirrored lake surface. It was a satisfying sunset, one that reminded Nick of sitting on the roof of their house at school, where they would watch the sinking daylight explode into the sky, capping off a successful day of doing everything and nothing. It was a feeling of blithe torpor that washes over you, which most people have to fly to Tahiti for, but Nick received for free. He thought this must be what heroin feels like.

They got ready to go out, mainly by playing a Rick and Morty drinking game while they watched an episode. Eventually, Nick wandered into the shower, and upon getting out, put on a shirt for the first time since he had arrived here. Sully did the same, and it seemed that throughout their friendship, they were beginning to dress alike — button-down shirt, jeans, and Vans sneakers — and the resemblance was striking. They kept drinking after they were dressed — some awful rum and Coke mixture Sully had created — and listened to the new Kendrick Lamar album to get excited for the night. By the time the TV read 8:00 pm, they piled into Sully’s black Ford Explorer, which had turned into more of a mobile recycling center than an actual SUV with the comical amount of empty plastic bottles, and made the 20-minute drive to Don’s house. By the time they arrived, Nick’s hash oil high from earlier in the day had transformed into a healthy buzz that had him energized, which Sully noticed.

“Oh shit, it’s time to resume regularly scheduled programming, because Nick at Night is here and ready to go.” This was the name that Sully had given Nick in college, because in his words, ‘you change into a different person when we go out… not in a bad way, just more aggressive and basically shameless’. Nick couldn’t fight him on that. Drinking always brought out a forceful side of him, as if he was about to run into a tied lacrosse game with 30 seconds left – full of adrenaline and ready for anything. But alcohol does that to everyone, so he wasn’t too worried. “Don! What’s up, shitbag?” Nick said with endearing force as he leapt out of the Explorer. “You will not believe what happened to us today… we bought Girl Scout cookies. Crazy, right? Oh yeah, and we met the hottest MILF of all time, and we’re going to meet up with her and her friend later.”

Don was their neighbor in college who was an insouciant guy like the rest of them. He had a shaved head and stout build, but very athletic; much more than Sully and Nick — the guy ran triathlons for Christ’s sake. He was standing on his stoop, smoking a cigarette when Nick walked up. Don paused for a second after hearing him, then with a look of malaise, replied, “so what you’re telling me is you guys got seduced into buying Girl Scout cookies?”

“Joke’s on her. We never paid for the cookies,” Sully shouted from the car.

They all shared a laugh and walked inside, making their way to the back, where a few of Don’s work friends were playing beer pong on the porch.

————————————— The plastic cup beaded with sweat as the hot spring night drenched all of its inhabitants. Nick fixated on the droplets, then reached for the cup from the bar, and turned to face the writhing crowd in the street. The city was alive, having some sort of festival that shut down the road to set up drink stands and speakers.

“Bro, where the fuck have you been?” Sully yelled as the humid crowd gave birth to Nick’s friend.

“I’ve been taking laps. You know I like to wander.”

“Well, you might want to wander over to Stardust because the MILF just texted me.” Nick could tell that Sully was focused because where he might typically be wearing that shit-eating grin, was now replace with a concise half-smile while he drafted a reply.

Without saying a word, Nick turned and began to walk away from the street-side bar. He walked to the end of the block and sat on an elevated planter, flipping a coin in half-time with the hip-hop playing nearby. After three minutes, Sully came down the street exasperated and said, “What are you doing?”

“Waiting on you,” Nick replied blankly. He slipped the coin back in his pocket, lingering on the triangle etched into its surface.

Sully shook his head, and the two continued bumbling down the street. After passing numerous street signs Nick couldn’t be bothered to read, they arrived at a basement bar with a small red neon sign that read “Stardust.” The dimly-lit venue was relatively empty for a Friday night, with only a handful of patrons standing at the bar, and a few people dancing near the DJ booth. Nick passed the bouncer and headed straight for the bar, ordering a vodka-tonic-lime, without so much as glancing at his surroundings. After paying for the drink, he turned around to survey the bar, and his glazed eyes illuminated at the sight of sleek golden hair glowing magnetically in the aged club spotlights. It flowed like fresh honey in synchronous with the resilient body it was attached to, moving with the precision and poise of experience. She twirled and gyrated along the dance floor, beaming while she sang along to the Bee Gees’ “Night Fever,” flaunting her youth and wanting all to witness. In his fugue state, Nick was paralyzed by her vitality, and it wasn’t until he saw Sully shimmy into his frame of view that his trance was broken, and he regained his focus. With the sheer force-of-will Nick’s stupor provided, he followed suit and bobbed his way toward the dancing group. She was with a friend who looked much more her age, though still held that same playfulness which the goddess exuded. Nick moved and swayed up to the group, after saying hello with a very European kiss on the cheek to both, focused on the friend — the die had been cast, and he was now the wingman. He stirred from side-to-side, in unison with his partner, being conscious of his own body for the first time in months. They moved together, and he eventually took her hand, spinning and twirling each other, aptly drifting through the music of an era that chased euphoria at all costs.

Time slowed around Nick as he shrugged off all of his cares once again; any responsibility or suffering that had occupied his mind was gone. The blurring lights and hypnotic music combined into a force that began to overwhelm him, and moments around him started to come in as clips, like the unused scenes for that made-for-TV movie — the knowing glances from friend to friend, the twirling of a perfect stranger, the creepy guy trying to cut in. All the moments that Nick knew would stay on the cutting room floor of his mind after tonight. Nick continued to jive and spin to the music but glanced at Sully and the goddess every so often. And as buoyant rhythms played and his head swam in a puddle of dopamine and pheromones, he could distinguish Sully moving in to kiss her, and her moving back slightly. Sully then whispered a line that she countered, but Nick could only see one word on her lips.

———————————- “NO NO NO NO NO!” Michael Scott yelled. The Office episode played loudly on the 60-inch TV. Nick opened his eyes a sliver as the daylight through the ragged bamboo shades assaulted him. The hangover had followed him to the next day, and again he was sprawled in his own disgust. He pawed for his phone on the coffee table and checked to see if he had called Kelly again, but all he found were pictures of Don completely asleep on a barstool and a text from Danny that said “Pizza at Joe’s. Come.” Nick was definitely still drunk, because his head didn’t hurt and his stomach was still full. That would all change after he inevitably vomited in an hour. As he laid there wallowing in his filth, pieces of the night began to come back to him. Before “Pizza at Joe’s,” he remembered Stardust and the gyrating body of the goddess. Nick sat up on the battered secondhand couch, peered over the bed to exchange information about the events of the night, but Sully was gone, and Nick was left there wilting, as the disinfecting sunlight burned away the deep layers of his protective shamelessness. He more remembered the rest of the night.

Nick got up slowly, unsure his dehydrated legs could hold his weight, wobbled his way to the door and opened it. The morning sun, though assaultive and blinding, cast a soft hue over the lake and the horizon; the frogs croaked, celebrating the new day, as the faint sound of a bullhorn drifted with a crew team streaking by. He eased his way into one of the Carolina chairs facing the lake, taking in the scene before his body turned on him. His mind had already given up. Nick sat there as he recalled more and more from the night before, and fell deeper and deeper into the abyss.

He recalled her saying something to Sully and twirling away as her friend followed suit, gliding across the dance floor and away from the two children in an adult’s bar. He recalled feeling a jolt of shame in the moment, but then moving robotically out of the bar and down the street, into a blackout. This was the third time in a week, and Nick didn’t know how much more he could take. He couldn’t have fun for the sake of fun anymore; there was always a motive, an underlying theme, and he couldn’t escape it. Nick thought of all the times he brought home a great report card, and after 7 seconds of congratulations, the next question would be “Ok, now what’s next? What are you going to do better next time?” Progress for the sake of progress, and never celebration of what was achieved.

Nick sat inert, starring at the coin from his pocket and moving his fingers over the words “to thine own self be true”. Just then, the black Explorer rounded the corner and parked. Emerging from the mobile recycling center was Sully, whose 1000-mile gaze made Nick feel in good company.

“Sup butt?” Sully threw at Nick, meandering to the adjacent Carolina Chair. “Chick-Fil-A?”

Nick admired the delicate pink sunrise and said, “Yeah sure. Hey, Law School’s good for you. You should do it. We’ll have the grad party at my house.”

EDIT: here’s the link to the story on Medium. Any feedback would be great. This is my first time writing fiction.

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