The Bar was a lesser known curiosity of Proxima city. A territory Darkwitt helped cultivate from the ground up. A place for the various associates of his organization could come in and enjoy a little privacy to chew the fat without needing to uphold appearances.  

At the bar tonight was Madam Neon the owner of Club Neon, Cotton the Sheep, Roka the Sabertooth, and Mathari the Rix. 

"So run this by me again." Madame Neon said, pouring a cocktail before taking a small torch and lighting it up with a faint blue flame surrounding the shot glass' edges. 

"You are an amalgamation of a hive made of a goo polymer, and the only reason why you're working with Darkwitt is so he can help you figure out where you came from?" 

"That's right." Mathari took  a hand and gently pat the shot glass before she tilted her hand back to pour the drink into the palm of her hand, the goo absorbing the drink effortlessly while Roka and Cotton watched in awe. 

"The Rix are a collective consciousness, but we experience consciousness on a cohesive level. I could be a colony of billions of Rix and not realize it. 

"So how come you look like a snake?"  Roka teased.  Snapping her fingers to Neon who gave a smirk and knew what drink to pour into the martini glass. 

Mathari shrugged.  "I guess I could be something else, but this feels right.  

"Baa. I know that feeling. The Flock tends to have a very clear idea of what it is when you join it. There's a....comfort in the form. "
Cotton gave a slight nod, sipping her drink tenderly as the triangles in her eyes pulsed lightly. A brief memory of sheep training filling her head with wool mixed with the delightful buzz of the drink. 

"Birds of a feather..." Neon cooed as she swayed her hips to the music and continued pouring drinks.

"Low hanging fruit." Roka snickered.  Cotton tilted her head, but Mathari was quick to answer.

"'Flock' together, sheep?"

"Baa." She blushed and averted her gaze. 

"So. We gonna see the big guy tonight?" Roka pat the table as the martini slid forward to her welcoming fingers. 

"Not for a while. I hear he's travelling the triangle now." Neon rubbed her chin. a hand behind the girls rose and Neon knew the order already, turning to pour. 

"The hell does that mean?" Roka asked. 

"No clue. maybe something to do with the mark?" Mathari asked. 

"There's a dimensional plane that connects between instances of domination and submission that he's at the precipice of. He's trying to figure origins of imperius but it required tapping into a quantum entanglement within an abstract concept as a power source and now he's walking between dimensions." Cotton bleated as she finished her drink. 


The three of them took at look at her. Cottton's ear's flattened. 

"M...master told me. I don't know exactly what I said either."

"Guess I'll put his special in storage." Madame Neon turned around to get to the drinks. 

"Ooh, what's Darkwitt's cocktail of choice?" Mathari leaned forward with a smirk. 

"You're going to be disappointed." Neon flit her tail.

"Try me." 

"Milk. Just Milk." 

The other girls paused.

"Wow Darkwitt's kind of boring." Roka put her chin on her palm. 

Far from Darkwitt's original base of operations is a city he helped found, Proxima. Where many of the men and women working for Darkwitt help further his plans (and their own) with little impedance. Thought that does mean Darkwitt might not always show up to say hi. The mark is a little more common. Not everyone that lives there bear his mark or are even associated with his organization. But they know him, and do business. 

Art by Aridolena
All the characters are owned by Elizabeth Winterwolf