4th May 2511, 0203 hours
Gigantis Orbit, Rook's Point - Club Lubricious
Thumping. Deep, breath-stealing thumping; it rattled his chest like it was an empty can of cheap paint wielded by some burnout trying to express his drug-fueled story.
They designed the club to maximize that effect right on the exact spot he was standing, or at least that's what it felt like. Above those speakers thumped the thick, erotic bass right down on the floor where the masses were, where the action was, and it was where he had to be. Among the writhing, quivering crowd that twisted and gyrated to the primitive noise; most of them riding a chemical wave among the sea of sweat and flesh.
Some of them took it a step further, the mood was always like that down there. This was encouraged too, the girls high up on the platforms were exposed so everyone could see their nubile bodies swaying to the music. Each one had her own routine, her own style, but they all used that pole to get maximum exposure of their exposed bodies. Sometimes it was hard not to look. He knew most of them would have been for sale between sets, coming down for a quick break, and he had enough money to fuck each one right there on the floor. It wouldn't be like he was the only one partaking in the festivities either, the ones who were more into the atmosphere had lost inhibition.
His nostrils flared at the smell of sex and booze.
Navigating the crowd took some effort, he pressed his way through as the lights dimmed and flashes of color pulsed over the darkened crowd. His prey was here, in the ocean of primal beasts indulging in primitive desires, and soon enough he would indulge in his own.
A distraction ran her hand up his shirt, her inhuman claws found the patch of human fur and she smirked; he was a fine specimen and she gazed at him with a lusty glaze over her red eyes. Then her companion came up, doing the same but southward and down... down... Their eyes locked when she wrapped her hand around his thick girth, and for the briefest moment...
No! There must have been something in the life support loop, it felt like it took every ounce of his willpower to deny that sultry alien further access. That thumping made it hard to concentrate.
Focus returned when his inhuman parts, the cold metal and polymer parts deep inside, flooded his brain with the right chemicals that he needed. Too bad his eyes were still human, he would have liked a little help then and he would have traded some more of his flesh to be the robotic man he had to be. Above there was some pretty thing who used her long, thin tail to secure herself to the pole, her long legs clad in knee-high black boots spread wide as she dangled above him. Distractions. She had the same look, the same hot, needy gaze; her plump lips were parted and his body longed for them. Common decency dictated certain rules in that situation, and he gave the card reader a swipe as he passed by with an amused smirk.
Too bad he wouldn't ever get to meet up with her afterward, the task at hand would make sure of that. Damn.
Bodies throbbed against him, a hundred fingers over his creamy skin, his golden hair cropped to a flat plateau like he was a manufactured monument to masculinity. They all wanted a piece, a taste, pawing and clawing at the alien who looked like them but was not like them. A pair of claws ran over his scalp and made his skin crawl with needles of pleasure. They graced over the inhuman data port behind his ear and he longed for them to toy with the skin; he forgot about the itch that never could be soothed.
Thumping. It made the drugs in the air catch a whiff of their pheromones, exotic bodies offered to him as he passed of all varieties; his brain fought to keep his mammal instincts back. Inside he felt it, the surge of desire, the music swirled in his head like a serpent coiling around a confused mouse. Any more of it and he might give in, his stern gait had turned into a bouncy sway as the electronic sirens pounded his ears with steady artillery.
Worse still he was a sucker for an hourglass figure; a voluptuous, extraterrestrial vixen sashayed up to him and blocked his path, his eyes drifted down her body as she pressed her back to him. With a coy glance she parted those plump, delectable lips and let her forked tongue snake out... oh he wanted that. She knew it too, grinding her hips against him, a hand from behind fished around until it found his fly and confiscated the masculine anatomy.
A storm of bliss threatened him and he was powerless to stop it, the music was just the appropriate throbbing to match his heart as his body responded. Hands went up his abdomen, gliding over the skin pulled taut over slabs of muscle, toying with every nerve as a pair of fangs graced over his ear.
No!
Inhaling sharply he surged ahead, pulling every part of him back toward his center with all the firm conviction he could muster.
He had a job. He had a purpose, a reason for being there in that jungle of eager bodies yearning to introduce him to all the carnal delights. They knew he could take them all too; the human didn't have fang, horn, claw, or scale; he didn't have venom, poison, or even spine or quill. No, the human was soft but he had endurance of both the body and the mind.
There were other humans though, willing ones, and they would distract the excited crowd.
Ahead he could see them, the throng of sycophants draped over the naked figure like he was a king. They had no need to look away way, each one was too busy pressing lips and tongues to his bare flesh and tasting the sweet sweat. His head was back, neck exposed, and the human could see the creature's four eyes were closed as he lounged there and let them do all the work.
That was his target, unassuming and unaware, wrapped in a blanket of false security that prevented him from noticing the human.
Those guards were different though, the human was not hard to miss.
One moved to block him but made a critical mistake by getting too close to the crowd and he ducked to lure the guard in, then emerged right in front of the other with the smooth grace of a feral beast. Countless generations of fair-haired warriors, hard, rugged people, had given him the swiftness and finesse to deftly dodge the first strike. Then the second.
Thirteen years of bitter war, of a constant apocalypse, gave him the wisdom to grab the guard's gun and pull the slide back; it refused to fire out of battery.
A swift motion ended the guard, the music was too loud for anyone to hear the sound of the spike entering the near-human's head or to hear him cry out. Even the second strike, it felt like a loud pwop! in his hand, went unnoticed and the guard was draped in a booth to die quietly from the spike that had skewered his eye.
Just as the music ended a heavy boot stepped on an exposed back, the owner didn't cry out; her mouth was full.
"Hello there," he said, smirking as his prey opened his eyes.
"Who th-gck!"
He twisted the knife, letting the panicked squeal escape through the frothing fountain of blood. A silent beating pumped fresh liquid, the only noise was the gentle whisper of foam accompanied by a symphony of gasps.
"Dreena sends her regards."
Thumping. Everyone's screams were drowned out by the thick bass of the next song, the panicked flee left him enough time to fling a heavy spike for the other guard. When the man stumbled he was caught, his killer letting him down ever so gently before shoving the metal in further.
People had begun to notice at that point, it was hard not to notice two dead men and a third spending his last moments in a growing pool of his own blood.
That didn't matter, nobody would come in time to stop the slaughter.
Inside his chest he felt the rich, smooth bass shake his heart; his calm, steely heart that didn't even bother to race anymore. Nope, his skilled hands didn't need the extra effort. Actually he was in a rather light mood, and with a tap of his foot he got to work sawing that head free.
After all, it was a good song.
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[–] 60PercentScalie 0 points 1 point 1 point (+1|-0) ago
This guy is such a fucking badass. Been around for hundreds of years and all of that was spent making himself into a more and more dangerous motherfucker. I'm interested in what caused him to get those robotic parts.
I'm also wondering if this guy could 1v1 a Space Lizard at this point. A no item, Fox only, Final Destination 1v1 match.