OOC: We still have the problem of Dripik. Should someone else take control of his characters, since we kinda need someone to employ newcomers, I presume, and run the factory?
IC: Kotez got off the train, carrying nothing but his pistol, knuckles, guard form and a bottle of Soulstorm. He took a swig to finish it off, and threw the empty bottle back into the train as the doors closed. Observing the form, containing details about himself for employment, he folded it and put it into a side pocket. He stretched his arm out and yawned, and looked around. Certainly not as shabby as where he'd been bought up and trained, that at the very least seemed a good sign. After taking a quick look at the map, he decided the cafeteria, which was usually the place where, at this time of the morning, everyone would be having breakfast and socialising. He eventually found the cafeteria and stopped dead in the doorway. Sligs, yes, but Mudokons were there too, not working, all slacking off in here. He rubbed his eyes and looked more cloesly. Some of the Sligs and Muds even seemed to be...talking to each other. His best guess was that this was the Muds cafeteria before they were sent to work, and all these Sligs had been punished and lowered to Mudokon rank. No, many of them still had weapons, and he spied the head Glukkons (or at least he thought they were) also sat at a table, eating. What was this, Mud lovers club?...perhaps they would all disperse into normal work positions later. He just stood at the door for the moment.
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