This is going to be LONG, sorry. This takes place in the same setting as a story ive been working on for a couple of years now (in sort of an alternate timeline though so none of the plot events interfere) so there is a lot of world building to cover. However, instead of just gushing about it like the excitable child I am, I wrote up an obnoxiously huge expression dump to try and make it slightly more palatable. I hope you enjoy.
A loud hiss broke out again and another cloud of thick black smoke billowed out into the muzzle of an unfortunate engineer. He coughed violently, trying to expel the disgusting black smog from his lungs. That was the seventh time the damn thing had done that. He turned back to the machine, trying to whipe the dark, greasy residue from his face but only really succeeding in rubbing it further into his once pale coat. It seemed like these things were breaking down constantly nowadays. He grimaced, turning his eyes reproachfully to the scaffolding above. That was where the higher ups whatched over the factory. Guards, medics, the few privileged guests that visited on very rare occasions for discreet buisnes meetings. And sometimes the "iron goddess" herself. The CEO. His looks of distaste deepened as he remembered the last time he'd laid his tired eyes upon her. She rarely left her office and no one knew her name, past, or really anything about her aside from the fact that she was the cause of all their misery, so there was always an air of mystery when she emerged to speak with her employees. The entire facility would fall silent save for the constant chugging, rumbling, and popping of the machinery, and she would look down on them with a calm, feelingless, composure that somehow almost demanded ones attention despite its lack of overt aggression. She never barked orders, screamed, tried to intimidate them, or made any sort of ruckus, but she didnt have too. She would stand before her dingy metal empire, her mechanical parts clicking and hissing like the factory around her, she was a part of the factory around her. She would impart whatever she had to say on the lowly workers bellow simply and flatly, before turning and vanishing once again into her dark office.
That's where she was now, hidden somewhere behind those tinted windows. The scaffolding was presently full of medics and guards instead. A couple of the "health professionals" leaned out over the railings, eagerly whatching the workers bellow. It was enough to make the engineer sick. They were like vultures, whatching and waiting for one of the poor laborers bellow them to slip up somehow, maybe get a body part crushed by a machine or something. Injuries such as these were plenty common but the excitable daemons would practically leap at the slightest hint of a bruise. They did after all, have an alternate agenda in their work. A company like EverE that designed and manufactured so many new prosthetics, weaponry, and other mechanical products, naturally needed testers, and since using outside volunteers would take so long, be so expensive, and so..... dangerous for the company should something go wrong, the second you were pounced upon by the medics and dragged off to the infirmory, you were officially a new guinea pig. Eventuolly they let you go, they still needed workers for the factory floor after all, but there was no guaranteeing how much of your body would still be flesh, and how much would be metal. Luckily despite working in the factory for years, he had so far been spared this fate himself.
A fox scampered past on the engineer's right side and looked at him quizically. It carried a can of shimmering black oil clamped firmly in its mechanical jaws. The engineer shuddered unintentionally and it scrambled off in its way again. He remembered it, a rather young, spry vixen if he recalled, getting in a bit of a scuffle with a chow a while back over a late delivery. She always did have a habit of mouthing off. Her jaw was broken by a hard paw to the muzzle, and she was hauled off. She came back with a completely new set of iron jaws that snapped and creaked like a bear trap. Now she didnt talk at all. From true inability or just shame, no one was sure.
The engineer sighed and turned back to his work, blocking out the horrors of the surrounding space and melting into his imagination. The popping gears served as a sort of metronome to carry him away, and the hisses of escaping steam had their own familiar rythem. He had been in this place so long, it almost felt like home. Dirty, dangerous, hellish home. How long exactly? Ten years? Twenty? The original brochure had said six months to a year. As soon as those doors were bolted and sealed behind him though he should have known better. He gave a small smile, letting his eyelids droop lazily to the industrial beat. Cut immediately by a shrill, earpeircing squeal.
His heart raced, his lungs fighting for air despite the lack of any obstacle for them. The world swirled around him in a blur as his eyes darted wildly. The scream ripped the air again, torn from his throat by the pain. He looked down at his paw. It was wrong. He thought he might be sick. The shattered bones and ripped flesh was a grotesque sight. After years he'd finally done it. He'd gotten his damn paw crushed in the gears.
Soon faces started to converge above him. Concerned coworkers. Engineers, assembly workers, runners. He picked out the face of the iron-jawed fox, looking at him with fearful sympathy. The faces were shoved aside, replaced then with the twisted ones of the medics. One of them, a young she-cat, leaned over his face, looking at him with concern. He could see the excitement in her eyes though. The hidden glee. The older medics didnt even attempt to hide it as they gathered around and examined his wound. "Listen to me! Can you hear me? What is your factory number?" The she-cat questioned, trying to focus his attention. All the engineer could do was groan. "E-Elien," he choked feebly "my name is-" He was cut off as his head was wrenched up by a surprisingly strong paw of the she-cat. She studdied his identification colar for a moment before giving a huff and letting his head fall back down again. "I asked for your factory number." She said flatly. She turned and said something to the other medics he couldn't make out and he was hoisted onto a streacher. It was white at some piont, but years of dirt, grime, and blood had rendered the scratchy fabric a patchwork of browns. He fought the erge to gag again, the thing wreaked of urine and old blood. The medics lifted the streacher with strong, exuberant force and before the engineer knew it he was being swept away towards the infirmary doors, leaving behind the dim red and golden lights of the factory floor in favor of the startling bright lights of a long hallway. He squeezed his eyes shut, thinking of what may come as he tenderly held his paw to his chest, a wave of shame and disgust flowing over him. Now the factory would truly own him.
Occupations:
Assembly- the most common of the workers. Work on packaging and managing the assembly lines. They get pushed around a lot by the guards, but for the most part you should be pretty safe.
Runner- transport materials and messages around the factory, the guards shouldn't pay you too much mind, just dont give them any funny looks or anything. You're the fastest ones on the factory floor after all, dont get those legs broken!
Engineer- least common of the captive jobs, work on assembling and repairing the factory machenery. You're the fine skills and calculated brains of the factory. You'll probobly be pretty safe from any conflict, just stick to your work.
Guard- the only occupation along with medic that's allowed to leave the factory, but they usuolly dont. Keep the peace, keep employees from escaping, help the medics restrain particularly reluctant patients, just sort of the muscle of the factory authority. Dont be afraid to rough up any captive workers if you get bored, no one will stop you!
Medic- the only occupation besides guard who's workers are allowed to leave the factory. Heal the sick and injured of the factory of corse, but you're more than that. You're the brains behind all the new products of EverE. It gets boring just fix in people up all the time, has has fun, try something new. Who cares if that part wasnt injured, im sure they'll like your new version better!
(Honestly the occupations dont mean anything, it'a just sort of what your character does, sort of a default action I sapose. And the finishing personality things are in NO WAY deciding of what your character should do or say, its just extra stuff to fit the tone I guess)
Name:
Factory number: (just pick a random number you like)
Gender:
Species:
Age:
Appearance: (description or ref)
Ocupation:
Extra information of note:
Topic: EverE Industries (Read 15877 times)