Turning to her friends' Max pulled on the large metallic doors as the nearly ungreased hinges creaked like an iron coffin. Passing through the large double doors two scents immediately wafted around the group. One was the sharp smell of cologne failing to cover the arduous scent of sweat and body odor while the other was the soft scent of smut with hints of Bleach and Clorox accenting its rims delicately.
Max didn't know if she should throw up or pass out the longer, she breathed in the fumes the more her head ached, surprised she watched as Tasha and victor put on thick surgical masks along with goggles. Confused Max opened her pack finding her own goggles and mask prepared beforehand, putting them on she whipped her head to Tasha asking, "what the fuck just happened".
"Before the Melior got took over by the fates they were deeply connected with the pops always trading information in exchange for 'favors'" shuddering in disgust with the connotation of her own words Tasha swallowed her resolve and continued.
"In time the bitches learned how to make chloroform mixing it with flowers to make it smell better. Now they use it as their natural defense wearing it when they get down and dirty with whatever schmuck they wanna trade with."
Max stared at Tasha dumbfounded "but wouldn't the pops also be affected by the gas and how did they even make chloroform?"
"I don't know after the fates took over the former leader turned into a rat and nobody's seen him since
Huh
Tasha solemnly shook her head " anyways, thanks to the number of uppers they take they're immune and without the gas, they'd be wired as hell but it also serves as a trap since they can’t use any flashy attack spell unless they wanna set the whole room ablaze.”
Victor turned to Tasha with an intrigued glint in his eye “and just when you think you've seen it all?”
Before Tasha could reply the right side, door slammed open with a guy pulling up his pants while dodging a cacophony of random items thrown his direction. Running past the group the guy fled down the hall with his assailant appearing in the doorway, her short auburn hair was tied in messy pigtails while her dark bra and panties left little to the imagination. "Yeah, you better run ya, fuckin' cheapskate, next time I’ll slice off your face and use it as a toilet seat ya hear me".
Stunned by the girls' threat a small seed of fear sprouted within Max's mind, turning to face the group the girls' demeanor shifted her snarling rage turned into a warm open smile accented by her alluring blue eyes. leaning against the metal door frame the girl put on a small pout while crossing her legs possibly copying a pose she saw in a movie or magazine. As the trio stared at the scantily clad girl a viable tension grew in the air the girls posing was more awkward than anything and with each passing moment as the girl inspected the trio her eyes widened in realization before clearing her throat and stepping aside.
The sole benefit of carrying trade items: no one ever wants to waste a traders' time, passing through the door the gym floor was coated in shades of pink and red. Yet with each step, the group reached a point where the floor grew sticky, the almost plasticine sound of their footsteps disgusting them as they refused to even wonder what the floor was coated in. Yet the sounds clear snapping resonating alerted the surrounding pops who weren't busy either talking to customers of trying to seduce the trio as best they could.
They stood at the center of attention slowly approaching the "throne" of pops leader, Marley Benedict. The chair sitting on a raised step and ordained with glitter glass and all manner of shiny objects like its occupant didn't detract attention from its worn ragged nature. The leather was cracked, seams were split, and flakes of stuffing were already sticking out of each and every random space just like Marley. Once adored for her flawless tan skin, long blond hair, and suggestive fashion sense those things now seemed like a distant memory and almost seemed to not fit the individual seated before them. Her once full eyes were sunken pits of despair while her natural auburn hair began to grow in making her look empty and fake. She looked exhausted and worn worse for wear even her dress along semi-translucent sheet seemed dull and ragged. As Max stared at Marley, she couldn't help but feel bad, she knew that everyone in the dome was suffering but seeing the once-prized school idol reduced to little more than a shell made her wonder if she’d ever truly get out.
Stepping forward from the group Tasha looked at Marley with an intense glare before clearing her throat. “Hey, Marley we got some questions we need to ask-” but her words were cut off by the creak of Marley's chair as she held up her hand and looked down unto Tasha’s form. No less than a second later Marley's hand came together in a pair of curt claps causing a group of girls to exit the storage room behind her. As each of the five girls exited the storage room, they each emerged with their own solitary weapon making the scantily clad nature feel intimidating even if in slight amounts. Pulling out her knife Max brandished he weapon with a meager confidence thanks to her small amounts of effort she put into her night training, gripping the weapon she stared at the girls until Marley drew their attention once more by lifting herself from her creaking throne.
Acting almost absent-mindedly Marley gestured a weak hand to the group of girls speaking in a strained and hushed voice "they shall help you with whatever you need sex, information, anything. Just know that they're right to kill you if it seems your causing problems.” Slouching down in her chair once more with a feathery wave of her hand the trio recovered from the ease of access, they were allowed to begin eyeing their first suspect. Jessica Rowley.
