OOC: For the record, this must be the longest piece of writing I have ever made. So be prepared.
So yeah, I came back. Hopefully, I will never have to write like that ever again. Putting twelve characters in the same post is very hard for a thirteen year old. So I hope you enjoy.
IC: As the busy commotion continues in the cafeteria and surrounding areas, a Slig named Gappiqu works in the upper levels of Rupture Farms, without a gun. To replace such an object, Gappiqu instead decided to carry around a small, disfigured pencil (needs to be this way to help a Slig draw) and a long sheet of butcher paper. This would actually give him a better job than those with a gun, baton, or tear gas weapon.
In the past day, Gappiqu had been knocked into a world of depression, due to recent events. His beloved Dionysia had revealed the cold, hard truth about their relationship, (which was not good at all) a Vykker doctor named Dr. Kirk could tell the media of his feelings for Dionysia or his assault on the famous doctor, and a robot was out to get him for his rebellious actions yesterday. Gappiqu, a rather emotional Slig, was really hurt by everything and did not have much of a future ahead. Arnie and Otto would have no choice, but lead him back to his mother. Skillya, the queen of all Sligs, would have to be in a cheerful mood just to smash him to bits as punishment for such treason against all Sligs. Gappiqu had no choice, but to impress everyone in the facility just for him to be forgiven.
He had decided that in order to live two more days, (and find a way to get Dionysia to forgive him) he should do his job and work with the machinery in Rupture Farms. At night, when Gappiqu had awoken from a puddle of tears and depression, he decided he should try to invent a way to keep productivity in Rupture Farms active. His first plan was to create a more organized security plan, instead of having Sligs just roam around the place. So Gappiqu visited nearly every level of Rupture Farms to check out how security related machinery and areas that required supervision, worked. After, Gappiqu used the nine years of sketching machines he had and sketch every area that related to his project. Being that time went slow on Oddworld and even slower for Sligs, Gappiqu easily made such drawings.
15 hours past, and Gappiqu, was very exhausted. He had to carry around a led bullet to supply his pencil with led, since he was using the pencil so much. Even though many would argue that he could even would be considered to even being related to a Slig, Gappiqu’s natural instinct kept on telling him to sleep from just being a Slig. The only thing that kept him standing was the need to keep on living. Besides, he was almost done with drawing each and every level on Rupture Farms. His weak hand had just enough strength to go and draw in another security post nearby the Armory.
When he finally finished, exhaled like he had just finished lifting 800 pounds of Scrab Cakes for 2 hours. Gappiqu whispered to himself, “At last, I can finally go prove myself to Arnie,”
Yet, that wasn’t the case. The speakers in the floor burst out in Arnie’s voice:
„Attention to all workers! Animals are loose in the building. You are advised to find shelter in a room and seal the door. The Head of Security is already on the case with a group of Sligs. Until then, be cautious.”
Gappiqu heard exactly what was happening and panicked. Animals in the building? He already had enough of wildlife from yesterday. Gappiqu was really not looking forward to meet any more Scrabs or Paramites. So he took his gut instinct and launch himself toward the Armory. That was probably the closest place to safety.
Being logical, Gappiqu sealed the door as soon as he got into Armory. As soon as that was accomplished, he started to pace back and forth in fear. He was scared of being attacked by animals; there was no doubt in that. What worried him the most was that he could be stuck here without a word that this situation was going to be settled. How could he know anything? Would Arnie be able to say anything about the status of what the heck was going on with the wildlife? What if the Glukkon positions were destroyed? Even worse, what if Sligs had to go to the Armory to get weapons? Was he was wanted for a crime he no longer knew about? (Remember, this Slig often loses memory of the events that include him going through extreme emotional situations.) Those Sligs would shoot him before he could say anything in his defense! (Shoot first, ask later)
After busily being puzzled on what to do, he made up a rather risky solution. He could contact that robot RG-49 to go place him in a more social environment, to assure himself safety of possible dangers. He could convince the robot, whose only job is to make sure productivity is in its best stage, that saving him would be in the factory’s best interest. Since his security plans could be very valuable for Rupture Farms, RG-49 would have to save him, no matter how much trouble he had caused. And if that didn’t work out…. Gappiqu had seven grenades (OCC: I forgot how many he had left, let’s just say seven until then) that said otherwise.
So nervous that he was sweating, Gappiqu pulled out his walkie talkie (The one he used to contact Kilsa two days ago) to make the daring call to RG-49. He sat by a closed locker full of mechanical pants, and tried to twitch the dial to find RG-49’s contact service. He spent nearly an hour trying to find it, as he would reach different services in the area, like the pants required by Sligs to wear service that could contact each other, and FeeCo Depot trains coming by.
At last, Gappiqu could hear the robot’s mechanical voice speaking for a moment, and he spent another ten minutes looking for him again. At last, there was just static, and he knew RG-49 was around. He gulped before he began and said into the walkie-talkie, “Hello RG-49. This is a Slig you might know from yesterday or the day before that. My name is Gappiqu. And I am in the Armory of Rupture Farms with important information I have created to make the current situations you have most likely never to happen again. As you already know, I am hiding from animals after to get my blood. I need your help to get out. I don’t know when everything troublesome will end, and I could be stuck here for days. Arnie will never find my plans if I am lost! So I need your help. I can make this factory have an improved security system if you would only get me out of here. Will you help me?”
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Meanwhile, another Slig was in a bigger and a little more serious trouble. The part machine Slig pressured his brain that had barely any energy, tried to command his legs to move his body up onto the Grinder’s floor. He was even lucky his brain even had such ability. His mind was barely conscious and it was seconds from just failing on him. With luck, his legs just got up onto the ground and he was standing. He was not still, but he was up and ready, and he needed as much effort to heave his body forward.
This Slig is named Molt to most people, due to his appearance. His body was completely covered by metal of some sort, and some of his body parts were practically metal. One of his arms had recently been blown off and he had to get an artificial arm to replace it. His body was weak from that encounter, but that wasn’t why he was dying.
Molt, as you might or might not know, is a Slig that is covered in metal for several accidents, including one that was major. He was possessed by a Native Mudokon, and like most Mudokons, they intend to kill their host after possession. Not true for this Slig. When he was about to implode, Molt resisted very well, and literally absorbed the spirit of the Mudokon, forever making the Mudokon lost in a Slig’s body. Molt regained power over the Mudokon, but ended up twisting his spine, losing three fingers, burning his skin, and losing most control of his body. Surgeons gave him a metallic exterior to resist bacterial exposure and controlling every part of his body left. This surgery proved to have worked, but one side effect came that Vykkers knew about, but had no ability to prevent from happening.
This Slig, Molt, could not stand any form of chanting. Sure, Sligs will run away in attempt to not be possessed, but Molt was different. The chanting would be like a vacuum and suck the vitality out of Molt if he got too close. This time, Molt would not have the power to resist. He would just die.
And Molt is getting pretty close to that chance. Yesterday, Molt felt a Mudokon chanting. He had no choice, but to escape to a wall, to prevent himself to getting into any more danger. Yet, there was no such luck for Molt. He fell unconscious in the chanting and had to try and recover. Hours later, more Mudokons started to use their powers, sucking his chance of living. Molt was in such a bad state, that his mind was seeing the door from life and death. You describe this as being half-dead, if you will. Molt’s heart rate could panic a doctor and his organs were dying as well. For a while, he had no hope of living any longer.
Just then, an electric jolt* was sent to his brain, flicking his brain on for hour longer. Stricken with the fact that he was dying, he knew he could use this moment to save himself. He had to find help and fast.
Molt used his mechanical eye to find himself around the place, since his actual eye was having trouble seeing anything. As his mechanical eye scanned the scene to see where a door was, his real eye was seeing a dazed location and seeing his life flash before his eyes. His fake eye could see a door far away and it seemed like all he had to do was walk around all the hazards on the deserted floor. Trying to ignore the weak inner feeling he had, Molt tried his best regain power of walking properly with legs, looking with only one eye.
Molt felt embarrassed of what he had to do. He had to count each step, like a Sliglet in pants. His legs wobbled every time they went onto the ground. He had to lift each leg very fast so he could stay on the ground and not fall out of his pants. Molt also had to breathe deeply like a dying, old frog, just to give him enough power to stay up and not collapse from lack consciousness.
Molt, at last, reached to the other end of the Grinders, and felt the door that lead to the stairway. Like someone who didn’t know what he was doing, he pushed his hands against the door. After half a minute of trying to open the door, Molt was exhausted and had nowhere to go. He shifted his weak head to see a lever that he hadn’t seen before. Molt just said, “Got to pull da lever,” since he couldn’t curse with his weak air stream. (Pronouncing swears is hard for him since, it sort of needs an extra amount of using the tongue)
He budged his mind to lift his mechanical arm to grab the lever. As soon as that was accomplished, he stepped toward the lever, so his arm could be bent. Molt, eager to get out, pulled with his mechanical arm to activate the lever without moving his body.
He was almost blown back by the door’s fast movement of moving out of the way. Molt stood his ground and went forward, only to hear small steps going downstairs. He pushed his skull to the right, to see a Vykker (Praetyre) going downstairs.
Molt, in a hoarse voice, croaked, “Wait!” Molt tried to move his legs downstairs as fast as he can, only to accidentally trip. He fell out of his pants and took severe bounced down the stairs like a light metal ball.
He was lucky that he hadn’t taken any real severe damage from the fall, but his body had the wind blown out of him. His pants, that were a little ahead of him, seemed impossibly far away. Molt didn’t know how he was going to catch up with that Vykker.
Molt had no choice. It was either get to the Vykker or die. He then threw one of his arms onto the floor and pulled his body along. He did the same with the next arm, making a system of throwing his arms. It exhausted him, but he did finally make it to the pants.
By the time he had reached his pants, he slithered his tail into his pants, to connect his pants with his body. After getting snuggled in, he hastily rolled over to get his back on the ground. Molt took a deep breath in and with all his might get up onto the ground like other young Sligs do. The rush of air stunned him, but he was on the ground, and preparing himself for something even a little more hard to do.
He inhaled deeply again and held onto his pants as he suddenly jerked his pants into a running position. This took a lot of effort from his mind and even more so from his body. The rush of air was making him sick from such a rush of movement, and he practically hurled, if he wasn’t so determined he get his body moving. Making sure each step wasn’t wobbly and that he could see what was coming next was very difficult for him as well. What made him keep on going? The will to live was that only thing that made him keep on kicking.
Molt had nearly thrown himself into the stand off outside, if he hadn’t chosen slowly down. He may have been in a rather uncomfortable state of mind, but he could notice who was around. There was many Sligs, an Intern, and a robot all caught up in some fight. There was also a Meech, which could’ve made him faint if he had cared at the moment. He wasn’t sure if a Mudokon was around, he was more frustrated about the fight was going on. If someone didn’t stop them fast, something nasty would happen. Which did in two seconds, where a Slig started to open fire on the Intern. It wasn’t Slap, he knew that much, but still, Sligs have got learn when to fold them and when hold them. Yet he didn’t care. They could kill each other if they wanted to. Idiots need to be cleared from the world anyway.
Molt saw a Vykker by the Cafeteria’s door, talking to really someone he couldn’t see yet. (He could also notice that the Vykker had a Snuzi, but he didn’t mind.) That was his chance to keep on going. With little effort left, he tried his best to heave his way around the commotion. He cried out to the Vykker in his loudest voice, (which is pretty hoarse and soft) to say, “Hey Vykker! I need help! I’m dyin’!”
He moved his body toward the Vykker (Praetyre) and kept on repeating his sentence, in hope he would hear him. Eventually, he grabbed his shoulder, to repeat again what he was trying to say. Molt started to feel really tired, as if he wasn’t going to hold on much longer.
And that did happen. He threw himself off balance and landed on the floor because of the shock of an Intern screaming of pain. His heart struggled restart a beat as he heard the Intern screech agonizing pain. It almost was like that the tazer hit two in one shot. Things really did become worse when he heard the smoke bomb blow too. His breath was inhaling smoke, not oxygen. Molt tried to breathe faster and faster, in hope he would get something else. No such luck. He rolled his body on the ground and tried to breathe the air on the ground. It was hardily enough to keep him going. He thought he would just die if he had to keep on going on like this.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
All eight brothers, were rather bored at the R+R. They were watching what was going on outside from the R+R for a while, but then some rude Mudokon-who-thinks-he-is-a-Glukkon (Joe) came and shut the door. So they all watched the crazy Mudokon talk to himself and into his fone, for some time, wondering how they got stuck with such a weird factory. They were also alerted by Arnie through the microphone from the cafeteria to right where they were, since animals were loose in the factory. They did see that outside, which made them even more frightened. Yet after a while, they did not seem like they were getting out until a long time had passed.
The eight just hung around, just waiting to find something to do. They already scrubbed the tiles around on the floors to pick up anything nasty. The Mudokons also made the beds of the others again. Not to mention sort the cigars of the Sligs by brand as well. There was simply nothing to do.
Suddenly, Isaac perked up and said to his brothers after finding a box of cards, “Hey guys, want ta’ play some of the games that Sligs play while watching us?”
Matthew responded, “I guess so. We don’t have much left to do,”
The other shrugged like they didn’t have anything else to do, so they all huddled around and started to pass cards around.
Jacob, started to whisper to the others while being handed out his fifth card, “Should we invit’ crazy over der? We can see wat he’s up ta,”
Mike replied with smirk, “Ya mean play with da delusional guy? Craziness is contagious then,”
“Ah, come on, he could be a lot of fun,”
“I don’t ya if anyone asks then,”
Matthew made the angry noise a Mudokon usually makes, and turned around a little more calm. He said to Joe and said, “Hey cra- I mean rich dude, want ta play?”
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
As a situation that needed a doctor was at hand occurred near the cafeteria, Slap dealt with a patient named Arrack. And lets just say it wasn’t easy for him.
The Intern had flung his body at the nearest sink after Arrack hurled bile and other junk at his face. Following the procedures he learned at the University, Slap washed his face without using his hands, just the water and his neck to flush the throw up off. The stuff stung his skin from just being on his body, and Slap wished it off. He could only imagine how upset Arrack must have been from just seeing his Intern friend washing off poison that he produced. Yet, he would hope that was the condition, as his attempt of being close to Arrack should be working.
Slap had learned many things from just seeing Arrack act this way. First of all, Praetyre was right. Arrack had tripolarism, no doubt. The Slig had shown extreme, paranoid behaviors at first, because of his fear of the government. He had seen this at first from just seeing the whole Hot Intern Church episode. The Slig was showing that delusional stage of mind in the two behaviors he had just seen. The Hot Intern Church for example and the beliefs Arrack had about in his past. Arrack also had the infant behavior showing from just seeing him yesterday. That was also an unusual to have encountered. But maybe, Arrack had the ability to return to his final state of mind; a more sensible, kind version of an average Slig. If that could be returned, perhaps Slap could place Arrack on some sort of medication to keep that state of mind. That would help Arrack brilliantly.
The second thing that Slap learned of Arrack was that the Slig was in need of serious medical attention. Even though he had placed bandages around Arrack’s face to prevent serious bacterial infections, the rest of Arrack’s body was infected on other parts. He probably needed to cover the rest of his body in bandages for similar reasons, but Arrack needed something on the inside too. If Arrack just threw up digestive acids from laughing, he probably needed to more than just what Praetyre, Dek, and himself made up for him. Slap probably needed to prescribe Arrack on medience that could help him flush out the junk in him and destroy the bacteria in him.
Slap approached Arrack after ten minutes of washing acids off of himself and cleaning himself with his apron. Slap wanted to retain his young and cheerful Intern act on Arrack and perk up his horns in childlike manner. He sat back down next to Arrack and started to type on it, “My, I have never seen anyone throw up digestive acids while laughing before! That certainly isn’t good, but don’t worry! With the medience here, you could practically cure old age!”
While Slap made a rather muffled laugh, he discussed with himself that he could probably ask Arrack if he remembered anything from working at Rupture Farms. There, he could maybe see if the Slig knew anything about the medication given to him. Of course, he could ask Praetyre later, but this seemed a little more likely for the character Slap was putting on. So he asked on his laptop, “By the way, do you remember what kind of factory you worked at last? If so, do you what kind of medication you were given? As a doctor, it is pretty important to know. Oh and if you are wondering, I will be putting on bandages across your body. That explosion you speak of did a really something to your body!”
Slap started to unroll the bandages and plant them onto the body Arrack, as he told of his adventures in previous factories (This sort of implies how time has been taken up). He hoped what he was doing and what he said to Arrack would cheer him up and protect him from harm.
Before he could say anything more to Arrack, two Mudokons approached him and said that Praetyre needed him to look over another patient. He was rather distressed by this, being that he didn’t have all the time in the world to watch two patients at once. It would not be a smart idea to bring Arrack into the same room as this Mudokon. Maybe Praetyre was going to come back in a few minutes. So perhaps it wasn’t such a bad thing to leave Arrack for a while. So in response, Slap typed down to Ralph and Kix, “I will be right with your Mudokon in a short moment. I just need to settle my discussion with my friend here.”
He turned around and typed to Arrack, “Sorry bud, but I have to look after a Mudokon for a few minutes. It will just be a short amount of time, trust me. I will be right back,”
Slap started to head over into the next room and saw the unconscious female Mudokon. He approached her and examined her. Apparently, there were two stitches across her body. Blood was around, so he guessed it was a bullet accident. He checked the monitors and saw nothing out of the ordinary at first but…
Slap professionally kept a straight face as he saw her inner organs. He saw her functioning female organs, and felt a little faint. He had spent a little time as an assistant of Eloha’s studying ultrasounds of Mudokon eggs to find out the sex and class of the Mudokon. He memorized what the breeding classes of Mudokons looked like, and apparently it all came back to him. This female Mudokon was relatively young, and still took on the appearance of a worker class Mudokon. Yet she should have some at least distinct difference from the rest of friends at the least. Aside from the marks on her hands and her skin color, there was nothing unusual. Vykkers knew little of what Mudokon queens look like at early stages of life, but certainly this Mudokon should have had at least some sort of difference from the rest? The only theory he had was that she was an experiment left unknown by all of Oddworld, and was a minor queen. A simple queen that was not really productive at all. Maybe that was why Praetyre abandoned his patient; to alert Arnie.
Yet Slap stood there, staring at the patient, ever so often looking at the monitors. Acting like nothing was unusual. Slap, for once, was stunned that he would be holding such a deep secret in his life open the patient.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Kix had completely blanked out on every event happening. She was almost in a half-unconscious state where she almost tried to regain her powers again. Trying to somehow find a way to heal Anni. Save her from this pain and suffering was all that Kix had in mind. If only she could do something.
She finally awoke from her trance when Praetyre snapped a mask to protect her from getting affected by the air of Anni’s. She watched with her poor eyes to see her friend be performed on, hoping this was necessary to get Anni to feel better.
When it was all finished, she was relieved that everything went well and that Anni was going to be great again. So she happily followed Ralph to find that Intern that was going to watch over Anni.
The Intern took a few seconds to leave his post with a bandage covered Slig and walked by him as he went over to Anni. She couldn’t tell by the Intern’s blank face if Anni was fine in a doctor’s eyes. She saw the monitor of Anni’s, but couldn’t get heads or tails of anything out of it. Nothing seemed quite right. All Kix hoped that Anni was okay.
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Slaveless's post too big...Scramble's my brain....So Arrack is in two roleplays at the same time? Me try to post...Agaaaiiin... 
