OOC:
I don't mind Splat, but if you're trying to rid of her...I'll godmoddle you back and let her run away to the stockyards
.
Aaanyway...It doesn't say in the start of the thread what random characters are allowed. People have gotten away with using animals but not sligs and such, so if someone could edit that in somewhere...Great
.
IC
(GROUND FLOOR)
(CAFETERIA)
Population: Cylepso, RG-49, Arnie, Vester, Lenny, Ralph, Roy, Otto, Silph, Slax, Nox, Scri, Phats, Kotez, Silph, Slash
Tiro half-expected her to launch into a rage at him, but she didn't. She leant down at his height and spoke in a soft voice, the polar opposite of her enraged self.
"Ahh, well here is a lesson, little dude. No touching guns, alright? You might be shot accidentally by some moronic meathead who stupidly things you would shoot them," She smiled sweetly and ruffled his ponytail feather. “Okay?”
He smiled back and ruffled her bald head.
“Okay Cy!” He giggled. Tiny finally relaxed. The ordeal was over and
Cylepso had calmed down. He decided to leave her be in case he somehow set her off again. He hated it when sligs got this mad or worse...Even less.
Scarface merely sulked in a corner by himself.
“He would of so shot me...” He muttered under his breath in retaliation, loading and unloading his blunderbuss to amuse himself. Really, he was slinking into depression. He wanted
Dimitrio but
Dimitrio would rather shake hands with a meatgrinder than see his masked ripped-tentacled face. He didn't have any fake friends at this new place either. In fact, given the amount of nice sligs here that didn't take a shine to beating mudokons...He had no one. It was
Dimitrio, the painfully shy and emotionally scarred one that had the friends now, and
Scarface that got hunted should they see him.
(OUTSIDE THE CAFETERIA)
Population: Rick, Wic, Corky, Kotez, , Roy, Nox, Krett
Memories were so lucid to him now like he had been sucked into the past. He could hear the laughter of many older sligs yards away in a filthy room. Slobbering, biting, barking, snapping and chewing was far too close for personnel safety. He could see them do nothing as the red liquid of life made its way in large-ish amounts onto the already-stained floor. The huge pair of jaws lunged and tore whatever it could from him. The place wreaked of the alcohol, the tobacco and the strong smell of blood that spilled from him. Worst of all was the pain. The horrible searing pain, one of the worst things he'd ever felt as a child and the fear that came with it. No one was helping. He didn't stand a chance against such a killer. No one ever thought they could die one day, and yet here was the possibility.
He awoke in a flash and gasped years after what happened, grabbing his right arm with his left hand. More reality sunk in. He wasn't a little boy anymore, he was a 5 year old (20 in slig years) slig who escaped the consequences of being fired. If this new place he was at figured that out, he'd imagine being in Skillya's platter. He'd been hugging a little mudokon (
Wic) tightly all along. How embarrassing. That slog (
Phats) could be heard barking in the cafeteria...
He curled up tightly and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping and begging to himself that it would go away.
"I'm Wic, what your name?" The kid named
Wic asked with an innocent smile.
Dimitrio sniffled, trying to control his pathetic tears.
“D...Dimitri...Dimitrio...” He stuttered, still clinging to that mudokon child. He was almost as young as
Tiro but more well-behaved and...Innocent. Tiro could be a cheeky little bugger when he wanted to.
(FIRST FLOOR)
(DEK'S LAB)
Population: Only Agent
Agent the superbutchy slig chased the toy desperately, cradling and cooing to it when she got the chance, and only realised it was a trick when that cow (Dionysia) locked her in. An ephiphony swept over her. That familiar little click of metal meant she had been locked in. She could only watch in horror as
Dionysia took her pants and was off, the two of them laughing down the hall. Just what had they said? She hadn't been paying attention. She chucked every swear word she could at the door closed behind them and curled up.
The cage was metal, hard and cold and she was all alone, save for her beloved doll. In remembering 'his' existence and making sure he was alright, she had screwed over her own safety. What were they planning? That guy (
Krik) was a vykker. Her personality was still intact, leaving clues to her past. She trusted vykkers less than a suicider outlaw asking you to light a match. She wanted more than anything right now to know who her friends were and be with them.
Not locked up in a cage awaiting some unjust punishment. For the first time in a while, she clinged to that stuffed toy in a tightly curled up ball and cried her eyes out, pouring out her heart to the only one she felt comfortable doing so. There was things she did and didn't want to remember. But ultimately she felt she had to know the good and bad before she could go on as normal.