[Seargentbig]

(Ooc: I saw that I had a very cool enterance for Nails before, but that's already been used. Addmitedly, by me, but I can't do that one anymore...
And you make fine points, Slaveless, particularly with the spelling and posting arguments. But what I was meaning with the subplots was that people will involve only their characters - which isn't the point of the RPG.
At least, that was what I could make out.
Nice map, Splat. Very handy. I shall make use of it.
Finally, for the IC part. It might take me a bit to get up to full speed, as it were. I'm rusty, all right?)


A train pulled up at the station, grinding that awful, metallic screech that meant something.
It meant... that the tracks needed oiling.

Out of it climbed Nails, a gun held casualy in one hand and a cigarette in one tentacle, followed by Armpit, chasing after his own smell. With a belch of smoke and grinding of gears, the train pulled away again. (OOC: How many do they get a day, anyway? Sure is busy.)

With a wheeze, Nails headed into the factory and found himself in the production lines. Which prompted him to think - for a change - "Isn't this a factory? Shouldn't things be happening? Why aren't they?"

Hearing noise in a nearby open doorway (To the grinding room) he decided to head into there, to see what was happening.

------

Duagen paced the perimetre wall of Rupturefarms, trying to find an inconspicuous way in, not wanting to be spotted by anyone. Surveying what could be seen suggested that the factory was in two parts. One being the new, working part of Rupturefarms, and the other being a larger, unused part. The best way of getting close to the part of the factory he wanted to seemed to be to get into the old part. Eventualy, he found what he wanted - a hole in the atrophied wall abutting the old factory, just in reach and large enough to get through.

Duagen rigged up a torch, readied his spoocebow, climbed in, and started towards the factory proper.


(Edit: Now formatted to appear less daunting)