Fur and loathing

Blaring, bright, irritating, mind bending sun light. The heat and misery of this life giving God maintains the sands of the Nevada dessert. Lizards, birds and bugs skitter and fly along scrounging for resources. The twilight of the setting sun outlines a compound like structure far out in the wastes, from the inside of this building comes a steady beat. Clear beats in a rhythm from some loud speaker. On the inside we see the ruckus is a full speaker set up on a flimsy stage. The inside of the structure had the décor of a military outpost retrofitted to be some kind of bar, the furniture was mostly rusted metal and wood with little padding if at all. The bar was helmed by a tall and gaunt looking black man with piercing and bulging eyes. His three piece powder blue suit looked a like a hold over from the 60's, indeed this man looked strange for a human if that's what he was.

The patrons were of many peculiar looking peoples from beast like folk, to creatures from fever dreams that defied normal explanation. Limbs and bodies of so many sizes and shapes, forms that would leave the common man dumbstruck and perhaps fear struck or wonder. The atmosphere was very charged with an intoxicating force, everywhere you looked there were people who's minds were tilted by some lovely drug. strewn out across furniture and behind thick linen veils for more wealthy patrons. The pink and purple lighting was tacky as hell but somehow lent to the feeling of the place when one was stoned off their ass. The stale smell was the pungent sticky messes the encircled the bar, spilled liquor not properly cleaned. The smell fit the feel of this place full of shady and funky characters.

From across the sands and rough brush distorted by the shimmering heat is the figure of a young man, long hair done in dreads, a pair of ears and a tail made to look like a wolf. His clothing was nothing but a t-shirt with some common meme and some cargo shorts. Beside him on either side was an animated hammer with large expressive eyes and a paintbrush with an equally lively gaze. The wolf boy wore a pair of circular lens black shades that reflected the brutal sunshine like a flashbang grenade. He came up to the doors of the bunker and knocked on a large iron door that clanged and echoed, not a normal knock though. It was in a particular rhythm that resembled some song. After a moment or two the door and entire bunker vanished from in front of him, only for it to reappear right behind him like a mirage had happened.

The security for this place was just as odd as the clientele, a homunculus of earthworms made to look muscular. The wore cloaks and carried large copper pipes as their living earthworm flesh pulsated, not much for conversation the wolf boy was ushered in quickly as the building once again vanished. He sat at the bar seeming quite comfortable and familiar with the surroundings as even some of the beings there waved at him. The bartender moved over to him with a ghost like swiftness and loomed over "What're you havin man? Same ol?" Ornlu pauses a moment to think. It's a little too early to hit the fun stuff and getting brain fucked off whatever arcane drug was being sold was boring alone. "Ehhhh house lager for now Roger." With a preternatural speed the wolf boys drink is served in a frosty glass.

The evening whiles away and the sun sets completely, the bunker comes to life with drug fueled deviancy and all manner of perverse and strange activities behind the veils where silhouettes dance and writhe and change form. Ornlu by this time is deep in the throws of a fun substance called feytonol, a warmth has engulfed his body as well as heightened sensitivity to touch and taste. He's sat on a couch while a kaleidoscope scaled fish woman strokes his hair and rubs his ears, all while he fiddles with an old as hell hand held gaming device and chews on beef jerky moaning a bit with every bite.

"IT'S HAPPENING! THE TREE HAS COME TO HARVEST FLESH!" An old gnome comes stumbling down the stairs and trips, he rolls down and down and down until finally coming to a rest after hitting the bottom. Some people laugh at the old fool but most just ignore him including Ornlu, seems Dumb Reggie was at the shrooms again and thinking he had the ability to predict the future. Unfortunately the closest victim for this withered and drug fueled old gnome was Ornlu, he hobbled over to the lad and grabbed his leg. "BOY! THE TREE IS HERE, WHAT WILL YOU DO WITH YOUR SKIN?! Can you save it from the leafy bastards that the trees do? Where are the second pants? IT ONLY HAS ONE!" Of course by now Reggie was making a scene and security already made their way over.

Fortunately Reggie was escorted out of the bunker and let go into the dessert, a death sentence for most folk but the patrons of the bunker usually had some way of ensuring they got home safe... If they had homes. Either way ot was not the establishments responsibility. Another fortunate thing is Reggie in his removal from the establishment had dropped his stash of mushrooms, gnome mushrooms certainly caught Ornlu's interest. The fish girl was half passed out as she lay against Ornlu, her head a thousand miles in any direction. There was a sizeable amount left in the bag and a long night ahead, no sense in going on this trip alone. The wolf boy did something usually frowned upon in the bunker and started peeking past the various veils on different floors including the underground lounge for anyone interested in a little adventure.