Nestled away within one of the innumerable tributaries that constituted the streets of Novus Etá, was the antiquated dive bar known as ‘Watskie’s’, owned by the disturbingly enigmatic William Watskie. As a two-story establishment of ill-repute, it supported an average night on the town as well as playing home to a great number of nefarious activities. At any given time, a quick glance could reveal dubious dealings of illicit goods such as guns, forged documentation, and bootleg narcotics.

Experimental electronic tunes separated by deep drops, harmonized with female clannish vocals, surged throughout the club. The dim atmosphere was disrupted by beams of fluorescent light, UV lamps and laser projectors, all of it amplified with intermittent gusts of vapour injected into the environment. Low budget holography shone about the venue competing with a vast array of neon signage, digital displays and backlit menus that cluttered the walls. Jubilant patrons filled its metal floors wall to wall, clambering around each other to obtain drinks, reunite with friends and generally intoxicate themselves until they danced their burdens into a hazy stupor.

One group of alternative youths attired in hip, colourful clothing with dyed dreadlocks and piercings, had fixed themselves in an open booth opposite the ring bar. They displayed containers full of stimulants, pills and edible gels presented like a rainbow of luminous candy under the influence of black light. They sampled from their own stash whilst offering the rest out on a pay to play basis. A few booths over, another group, just as unique as the first, had set up a portable entertainment machine, projecting a vividly realistic and particularly violent fighting game of popular choice. Young men, fuelled with high proof liquor and brimming with the desire to show their Neanderthal-like dominance, hammered away at handheld controllers. They competed with fervour to gain an advantage over the other until one finally sprang into the air gloriously triumphant. Spectators cheered for his victory before the loser, acting out of sheer shame and humiliation, reeled up and belligerently shunted the victor. A slight scuffle ensued with fists thrown from both sides as the mob encircled them encouraging the violence; they gorged on it with blood thirsty lust. It was free entertainment after all.

A familiar sharp whistle penetrated the music. The hordes immediately desisted and split to attention, revealing a lean well-sculpted specimen of a man wrapped in alabaster skin. He exhibited commonly used kanji inked on each of his abs trailing down to his low set bandolier bullet belt. His black tactical combats were roomy, loose fitting but tightly tucked down into his high topped, white tipped trainers. His arms and back were decorated in an assortment of intricate tattoos featuring a range of writings and hellish imagery, capped off by thick black segments with negatively cut circuitry patterns mapped throughout. His short styled greying hair was illuminated with the ambient fluorescence, almost drawing attention away from his piercingly blue eyes of which an extensive scar wound ran over. The delicate circular patterns on the bionic eye can be seen dancing as he assessed the situation.

The brawlers managed to scuffle for just a few seconds longer before the drastic shift in their surroundings got their attention. Panting and bewildered they twisted to Chang, who biblically parted the crowds as he stepped towards them. He presented them with a truly irritated expression before turning to address everyone.

“Watskie’s… does not tolerate violence… within its walls.” Chang’s gruff voice bellowed over the music and many more of the night’s patrons ceased their own endeavours to curiously look over the commotion.

“Now as I see it, these two gentlemen have a clear choice to make...” Chang sized up each of the brawlers in a glance. Both, still fuelled by their elevated adrenalin, kept their body language pointed towards a violent resolution. “Either, you can embrace your fellow citizen, put you differences aside, and buy three ‘Illusive J.A.N.E’s’, Watskie’s most expensive slammer.” Chang paced around as he presented the option, intermittently pausing for great effect.

“Or, we can take this bout to the lawless lower levels… where I will take odds on which one of ya’ll remains breathing.” He slid an intimidatingly large calibre hand canon from an almost hidden holster affixed to his tactical combats, whilst permitting a menacingly amused smirk to break out on his face.

“Well, which is it!? Do we drink, or do we fight?” His arms extended out on either side, gun still in hand as he incited the crowd to focus on the two combatants.

Tension grew with every second; filling the bar as both the fighters assessed their chances with Chang. One wiped a small dribble of blood from him bottom lip and eased his aggressive stance.

“We drink.” He uttered with reluctance, prompting the other to nod in agreement.

Chang flung his arms out wide and threw them around the two combatants, squeezing them tightly under his wings in a daunting embrace.

“Don’t tell me you heap of slag gulping scrap hoarders didn’t hear that!” Chang exclaimed to the entire bar with mocking excitement. “Let’s drink!”

The night’s energies revved up again as the clientele turned back to the jubilant business of once again drinking, dancing, and dosing to their bodies into oblivion.

“Why three drinks?” the guy queried, ejecting red spittle as Chang’s strength gradually coerced them towards the bustling bar.

“’Cos my adjudication ain’t free ya rusty drone!” He spluttered and laughed

He pushed them onwards and began his stride back to his personal booth. Positioned just out of sight, and lacking light in the recesses, several clearly unscrupulous individuals, all adorning similar tattoos amidst their varied dress styles expectantly watched Chang. They all seemed to relax, holstering visible weaponry and augments as Chang returned, indicating their dutiful readiness to act if something had gone awry.

Irintia had witnessed all the events unfold from atop her perch, a cosy booth situated dead centre on the second floor. With her boot against the brushed steel table, she had twisted her elegant form to lean over the adjacent metal guardrails. This allowed her ample view of the dance floor below, whilst showcasing the toned curvature of her lower body. She had watched on in eager anticipation of the fight, becoming dismayed to see Chang had administrated a peaceful resolution.

“Urgh, Chang can be such a cock block.” She blurted in a frustrated fashion slumping herself into a comfortable slouch facing her friends.

Bakari lounged next to her on the long plastic seat, his bulky muscular form dwarfing her slender physique in contrast. He had dumped his Axo and injector on the table along-side some scattered packs of Protein Bombs, his chosen snack for the evening. One arm rested on the back of the seat whilst periodically tossing his head back to funnel in handfuls of the nutritious treat.

“Probably for the best init…” He remarked whilst crunching his current mouthful. “I’d bet they aint got the insurance for a bar fight. Covering self-actuated damages aint no small premium.”

She gently nudged him with the tip of her boot before returning it to a comfortable position.

“Go sell them a plan then. I need entertainment”

“Girl, I ain’t selling care for your morbid pleasure, besides, I’m off shift.”

They exchanged brief mischievous smirks before Irintia extended her arms out and leant her head backwards over the bannister. One of the vapour emitters puffed another stream of cherry scented haze. She calmly held her position as it engulfed her head and infused with her dyed red hair.

Their friends, Sief Sanderson and Maev Byrnes sat opposite. A tall yet sickly thin looking young man, Sief was a self-proclaimed hacker and exhibited all the tell-tale tattoos and attire of someone vying for individuality with misguided perceptions of normality. His sweat stained vest adorned with the heraldry of a favoured band, draped loosely from his hunched shoulders. He had set up small personal digital assistants in front and was flicking back and forth between the two. He tongued the inner balls of his lip piercings as he focused on the screens, their faint glow emphasizing his gaunt facial features. Maev, an educated young woman with a superiority complex, proved to be the oddity of the group. Always dressed to impress; she was wrapped in a silken black garb complete with ornate golden trimmings, accompanied by netted tights and high heeled boots detailed in intricate golden patterns. Expertly coiffed, platinum blonde hair cascaded past her neck and rested on her exposed shoulders. Her eyes shimmered with the familiar colours of purple and cyan as she perused the network for her hourly updates of insincere social exchanges and hot off the press gossip. The four of them gathered as friends yet could easily be considered worlds apart in personality.

Rae appeared from amongst a small gathering of dancers, a large tray of drinks and snacks balancing in hand. Blue tipped hair fastened into a loose bun, left tendrils to frame her face and accentuated her Byzantium purple lips. The halter necked, sleeveless, skater dress barely graced her thighs; the deep black material defined by intricately embossed patterns and studded decoration. High heels transitioned seamlessly into stockings that matched the arm sleeves. Watskie’s generally supported a loose dress code, it allowed for each of the staff to wear essentially what they wanted if it encouraged the paying custom.

Coincidently, the moment the drinks hit the tables, all four of the gang rose to attention, moving to grasp the drinks whilst casually cheering, only to be halted mid motion by Rae.

“Nah uh, first we’re gonna all hit these.” She drew attention to a carry rack of tall vials containing what can best be described as a perilously intoxicating drink. Rae presented the rack with mischievous glee and enticed the group to take one each.

“Ah shit Rae, you know these shots wreck me girl!” Bakari’s verbal reluctance was betrayed by his body’s quick acceptance of the vial.

“Bad etiquette to turn down a free drink at Watskie’s.” Rae said still sporting a look of sinister delight.

They rapidly quaffed the vials down. Each of them recoiled with their own unique face of disgust and discomfort, immediately followed by a gulp of their own drinks to wash away the foul taste.

“Urgh… I’m gonna pay for that tomorrow.” Remarked Maev.

“And with that, I’m off shift.” Rae tossed her arms into to air and slanted one knee. “Move over muscles, me and my misfit got overdue snuggles.”

Before he had even had a chance to respond she clambered past Bakari and leant over for a long kiss with Irintia, before dumping her mass into welcoming arms and nestling in. They took a few moments to appreciate each other’s missed company before taking offense to Maev as she begun again to search the network.

“Look at her Rae.” Irintia gestured with her head towards Maev

“I know right, she can’t even drop the net for one night. We are disappointed Maev! Not angry, just disappointed.” Rae jokingly tossed one of the packets at Maev, causing her to flinch slightly in reaction.

“Didn’t you just get your qualification in counselling tech addiction?” Irintia sarcastically queried.

“It’s digital rehab counselling, actually, and how do you expect me to help anyone without first-hand experience?” Maev’s response was coated in comical condescension.

Seif detached from his screens momentarily.

“Ha ha, d’ya think that’s the reason why Bakari doses Axo?” He said mockingly.

“Woah, if keeping my body in a prime state is an addiction, y’all best take me to rehab. You just wobbling cos I’m peaked.” Bakari said still resigned to a position of total relaxation as he consumed his beverage.

“Yeah but, it’s not like a natural prime though, is it? You’ve fabricated it with drugs and stims. Seems like cheating to be honest.” Sief responded.

“Don’t mind him Bakari, Seif’s just pixelated cos his gangly waist is the circumference of just one of your arms.” Rae cuttingly interjected.

“Well actually, I think you’ll find a lot of women prefer the slender intellectual…”

“Emaciated intellectual.” Irintia interrupted.

“I’m sure all the women want you Seif, that’s why you’re building your own sex toy.” Maev scornfully supplemented the additional point of ridicule to the conversation whilst leaning forward to acquire a second drink from the tray.

“Constance is not a sex toy, OK. She’s a sophisticated piece or learning AI, which I might add, I wrote from scratch. No easy feat.” Seif’s self-justifying reply delivered along-side tense hand gestures. “She’s able to emulate complex human emotion to an extraordinary degree. That’s more than your ex’s say about you.”

A unanimous “Ooh…” ensued Seif’s particularly sharp insult.

Maev’s jaw dropped in momentary shock before she countered.

“Most of their blundering barely coerced a moan, let alone making me discharge ‘complex human emotions’.”

They all spluttered and laughed ecstatically at Maev’s flippant abuse towards her previous liaisons. Irintia calmed herself quickly, wiping away a small tear to continue the topic.

“Why not find a real girl, Seif? You could use Gen-Match or something. Don’t ya feel like you’re missing out on some genuine, intimate human interaction?”

“I get that ‘humans’ are generally better than androids, but androids are better at being human.”

Bakari shrugged and raised an eyebrow in agreement before Maev piped back into the conversation.

“Hey, I’m all for taking a machine over a man but not everyone’s scrap. There’s some crackin’ people in the city. Like, who knows, there may even be some damaged street stalker here tonight, pump up on Anvil and looking for her next project. I just don’t get why you’re devoted to a lie…”

“Hold up, you’re talking trash.” Seif jumped to respond before she finished. “Of course, I’m devoted to a lie, life is a lie. Look around people.” He gestured to their current surroundings. “In one glance we got Augs, body modification, and the genetically and biologically enhanced. An assorted variety of blatant yet accepted deception. We’ve got company rhetoric being forced in one ear, behavioural compliance warnings in the other and all while the rest of our senses are blitzed with ads that twist and distort reality around us.” His demeanour became rapidly more animated as he listed each point. “Bak’s dosing Axo, Maev’s chest is questionably enhanced and Rae’s put a beautiful face on.”

“Thanks, I think.” Rae hesitantly inserted.

“No worries.” He remarked on a quick tangent. “What I’m broadcasting, what I’m trying to upload to you, to everyone; we invent our own truth. I mean, we’re all just living on slag, this city even invents its own grown people.”

“Cool yourself public service announcement, Rae’s an I.V kid, remember.” Irintia Interrupted.

“And she’s the sexiest 14-year-old I know.” He swiftly countered. “Which is exactly what I’m sayin’. Rae’s what, biologically 24? Yet she’s only been breathing for 14 years. All because we manipulate everything we touch. Even our own genetics. We can’t trust a single sense we got ‘cos everything’s a lie. So, don’t go chipping my rust for wanting to create a little lie of my own.”

The rest of the group took a couple of moments and shared judgemental looks amongst themselves.

“Seif, if you ever want a hand moving out of the denial district, I can always book you appointment. Double the creds, obviously.” Maev jested and again laughter tittered about.

“Girl, denial ain’t in my vocab. I’m all about pushing our own truth.”

He leant forward, teasing that he was about to provide exciting information that was not to be overheard. “Cache this packet; my last three contracts were bug plants. I gain access to secured business servers, right, and disguise my programme, allowing me eyes on all sorts of truly dynamic info.”

The others started to show genuine concern in reaction.

“Seif… I love you for your ingeniously daft behaviour, but you got to be careful.” Said Rae.

“Listen, you don’t know what you don’t know. These companies got files on mad secrets floating about. I’ve got no issues with exposing it, for the right price.” Seif confidently lounged back with a self-satisfied smile plastered across his face.

“Yeah, but if they detect your presence…”

“Ain’t no one gonna detect me. That’s why they call me ‘The Plague’ baby, cos there ain’t a system on the net I can’t infect.”

“Actually, ‘baby’, it’s because you’re so pale and malnourished.” Maev mockingly cut in.

“Maev, I know you so desire to indulge in this delicious extravagance again, but I’m staying loyal to Constance, I’m talking full techno sexual.”

More laughs and giggles were shared amidst the booth. Bakari raised his reinforced plastic stein, inviting the others to do the same. With grins on their faces and delight in their eyes, they paused, drinks held high, for a small celebration of each other.

“Here’s to inventing our own truths.” Bakari announced before they all guzzled the last of their drinks, releasing satisfied sighs whilst slamming their empty cups down.

***

The night continued and panned out as it habitually would. Watskie’s drew in a comparatively meagre pack of hedonists of which would indulge frivolously in the variety of nightly offerings. All this aided to shroud the multitude of arguably immoral and often illegal interactions hidden in plain sight.

Irintia and Rae found themselves amidst the inebriated crowds, tapping into the transmitted vibes and coercing their bodies into sensually driven dance. They perspired under the intense heat, gleaming as the illumination refracted through the droplets forming on their skin. With bent knees, they interlocked their legs and swayed their hips to the rhythm, grinding their sweaty bodies together. A singular lustful gaze was mutually shared as they explored each other through the rhythmic commands of the music. As it began to wind down and Rae seized the opportunity. She wrapped her arms around Irintia’s neck and guided her closer for a long kiss as they slowed their movements to the conclusion of the track.

Maev watched on, drink in hand as the euphoric couple escaped the dance floor towards her. She had taken to the bar for her round. Short of breath and partially fatigued the pair slumped against the bar beside her and scooped up the fresh beverages.

“You two are just the cutest.” Maev said joyfully as they engaged in quenching their thirst. “I wish I could find a man to hold me like Irintia holds you.”

Rae shot Irintia a bashful and loving look accompanied by a shy smile in reaction to Maev’s compliment.

“Honestly Maev, you’ve got just the worst taste in men.” Irintia replied.

Bakari re-appeared and placed one hand on her shoulder, squeezing playfully as he jumped in on the conversation.

“Speaking of bad taste, we’ve lost Seif.” He said before grabbing a drink and taking an arm on the bar, his mass overshadowing the girls.

“Why, where’s he gone?” Rae inquired with a small degree of concern.

“Nah, not like that.” -mid sip and presenting one hand to calm any worry- “Somehow, he convinced some young fan girls that he’s the keyboardist from ‘Neo Wreckage’, as well as the writer of the hit single ‘Derisive Dirge’, an’ now they’re lappin’ up his every word.”

“Urgh” Irintia let out a disgusted sigh in reaction to the news. “He can be so slimy sometimes. I still can’t believe you took a hit on that Maev.”

“You aren’t gonna let me live that down are you? It was an accident.” Maev disdainfully rolled her eyes in response to Irintia’s dredging up of the past.

Bakari let out a loud laugh upon hearing the news.

“Nah drop that dross, you gots to be kidding me, I didn’t know you ‘caught the plague’ Maev!” He exclaimed, barely able to hold back more laughter.

“Accident? Like what, you slipped and fell on his joystick, then stayed for the ride?” Irintia asked rhetorically

Maev visibly convulsed, brining one hand to her lips with an audible swallow.

“Urgh, I just threw up a little…” She stated as her face screwed up in disgust.

The others burst into mocking laughter at her reaction to their comments. Despite being the object of ridicule in this matter, Maev also let out a small giggle. As they let the laughter fall off, Bakari became distracted by Zeek, who had appeared amidst the crowds.

Zeek was a small-time gang head dabbling in petty theft, assorted cybercrime and the unlicensed possession of weaponry, all of which only carried minor fines if caught. This seemed to directly correlate to the lack of respect he received, alongside his laughable dress sense. Lasers bounced off his painted shaved head illuminating the ultraviolet designs. The only present hair was braided lengths originating behind his temples and an unperceivably soft goatee, an ill-advised attempted at looking manly. The thick multi-layered, high neck jumper covered his torso finishing just beyond the waist, with rolled sleeves to display gang tattoos and cybernetic scarring. A stunted sarong concealed his dignity whilst emphasizing his bionic legs. Mixed matte and gloss red panels only partially veiled the internal interlaced wiring and mechanical substructures, as scattered LEDs emanated a faint glow within. Bakari excitedly bounced up from the bar motioning towards Zeek, who was attempting to woo a couple of women with the sheer sight of his new legs.

“Oh, hold up, check out this proud chrome kid!”

Bakari used enough volume the draw the attention of both his friends and Zeek alike. Irintia burst again with amusement, though partly in disbelief of what she was seeing. She almost leapt towards Zeek as she began to address him.

“Am I in VR right now, no way this is real.” She jeered as she stressed towards his new bionics, crouching to examine them further. “What in J.A.N.E’s name did you do to your legs Zeek? It looks like you jacked an android escort, man!”

Her ridicule caused Zeek to tilt his head in response.

“Ah stop your barking dog, these right ‘ere are some quality minerals yo, the best runners in Centafts.” Zeek chirped, parading one leg after the other.

“Nah, no way. Not in your weirdest and wildest simulations would those gaudy rust sticks keep up with me. I don’t care how many ‘go faster’ stripes you paint on ‘em.” Irintia picked herself up.

“You dosed Iri? I’ll run you into the lower levels and leave your vanilla arse in the dross.” He announced whilst extending his neck and widening his eyes.

“Did you get your head Auged as well?” She mockingly queried whilst pushing his forehead with her index finger. “I’d be surprised if that cobbled mess could make it off the start zone. If fact, I’m not even sure how they are holding together right now.”

Zeek licked his teeth and flexed his jaw in suppressed annoyance.

“Well if you’re feelin’ so amped, how about we go. Right now. I’ll dust that peachy arse o’ yours.”

“What, you wanna do the race tonight?” Irintia’s eyebrows had risen at his challenge.

“Ha, I knew you were just a meat sack, aint no metal in ya.”

Irintia narrowed her vision, focusing on Zeek’s slightly crazed wide eyes as she let an ominous smirk grow across her face.

“Ok, I’ve got enough time to bury a scrap scrounging chrome kid like you. Best get used to the sight of this ‘peachy arse’ Zeek, you’ll be front row to it as I trounce you and your rust poles.”