A KlAksakAR's adventures in the Empire of MikkoMMM/Start
From Create Your Own Story
You see: You are in a large factory hall where you've been working ever since you were born on this very planet, although your species isn't native to it. In front of you is a long line of work stations that are connected to each other through conveyer belts and are under a curved material so tranparent you have to really focus to even notice it being there. There are all sorts of robotics hanging from the work stations' transparent curved top. Next to you is a row of workers of various species that are of similar size to you. There are rows of workers as far as your eyes can see to your front and back, and each row seems to contain a different size caregory of creatures. The ceiling is very high and there are dim lights hanging from it. There are creatures flying above you.
The conveyer belt in front of you is well-lit by its own strips of light-producing material, the intensity of which you can control through a panel next to your work station. There is a microscope in front of you, as well as gloves that reach inside the work station. There are robotics for rotating the hat and for attaching the some pieces to it with microscopic precision using chemical bonds instead of yarn. You see a control panel for controlling the robotics in front of you. There is currently an unfinished top hat much larger than you on the conveyer belt in your work station. It doesn't have a single wrinkle on it and it's so shiny you can see your reflection on it, and if you weren't already acclimated to them, it would look like quite an exceptional piece of millinery. There's also a food hatch next to the control panel since otherwise you'd need many more breaks thus lowering your productivity.
You hear:
There is what you presume to be chatter coming from the row in front of you. It's in a foreign language but not directed toward you so your universal translator isn't translating it. One voice is mostly clicks while the other is using hollow-sounding, plaintive voices. There is distant yelling of what you remember to be your boss. It's in your language but you don't pay much attention to the exact wording of it. On the background there is low hum and whirring, both of which are almost too quiet to hear. Distant chatter of various species fills the factory hall despite how the supervisors have prohibited unnecessary socializing.
You feel:
You are on a young tree native to the homeplanet of your species, or so you've been told. It's quite comfortable, actually, and gives you good access to the controls on your work station.
You are equipped with:
- A Personal Temperature And Pressure Suit (PTAPS) with a built-in computer. It's got a universal translator software installed among other things. The suit is currently set to cover mostly just your torso since this room's climate is suitable for you except for the lack of moisture in the air. It's light and conforms to your body. When fully deployed, it can protect from all but the most hostile environments on this planet. It's not suitable for long-term exposure to radiation.
Do you:
