South of I-80, only a few minutes drive from Sacramento's city limits, sat a piece of private desert property that was currently ablaze with light. Artificial light. The county wouldn't approve anything larger than a campfire being lit during this knock-off festival, and so the hosts of this imitation Burning Man had decided to go in a different direction: The Electric Acid Test. Strings of multicolored LEDs were hung like streamers from pavilions and ludicrously decorated poles, glowsticks flashed through the air, and dayglo body paint was ascendant. Repetitive bass lines throbbed through the air from speakers set up throughout the improvised rave/campground, barely covering up the noise of several generators chugging along noisily on the outskirts of the impropmptu festival.
That was where Floki had convinced her 'date' to follow her...shortly before choking him out and drinking her fill. Grinning, flat white teeth on display, she strode back over to her pavilion and collapsed onto a pile of pillows. Guess her date had been a little drunk, and now she was starting to feel it.
Good. Then this little party wouldn't be a total bust. There were probably less than a hundred people there. Sure, it was only the first night, but Floki had been expecting something more. With a sigh, she slipped a small velvet pouch out of her jacket pocket and spilled a stream of stone runes onto the ground in front of her.
Just what would she find once she hit Sacramento, proper?
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