*ptsd to the fact that I am pretty much Valsoran Italy on Floridian crack*
We don't talk about this.
I inherited nothing other than the things I already bought that I am now going to reverse engineer.
I actually don't care about lack of inheritance, just as long as I can blow sh!t up and make rough equivalents of what I bought then I am fine.
Chops down all forests with Capitalistic intent
Deep underground in one of the Syndicate government's hidden labs:
Elevator doors open and out walk several scientists. On one side are "Lang", "Klopfer", and "Dahmen". And on the other are "Mark", "Eitzen", and "Kant". At the head of both groups is a semi-elderly looking man with a demonic grin etched on his face. He's being briefed by his fellow scientists on some recent experiment. As for who he was he simply went by "Doctor. M". M gave an aura of superiority and narcissism, empty but sadistic look present in his eyes, and his right hand was violently gripping a briefcase he had with him.
8^P This is the part where your sick mind comes up with an experiment they did on a neko and how he's been affected, make sure he's still alive.
Oh, btw in the convoluted lore of my back story, I am descended from Restoration of Eastern Kaiserreich, who is descended from OU, but the people who fled from EK during the templar era who founded me got enslaved by nekos, but then fought some warfare that was a mix of WW1 and also the Middle East with the help of some germanic crime syndicates (hence syndicate, I am not a socialist), in a conflict so brutal that my capital is built over craters that were filled with dead and massacred nekos.
Eventually I was brought back into OU's fold, and then he... collapsed and so now I am with unkle Kampf... but still with my own ambitions.
OOC: My specialty
M approaches an armored bulkhead, where TIB wrath walkers open a blast door for him to pass.
Inside a small, enclosed room, sits a Neko.
A Neko who has been subject to brutal torture and re-education.
Said re-education consisted of a piece of propaganda being shown;
If it was pro-TDS and Empire, the Neko was given a ration pack.
If it was pro-Communist or anti-TDS, the Neko was brutally whipped until its entire back was dripping with blood.
This was continued for 6 years, until now.
Now, Doc M was here, with a briefcase filled with drugs.
Meth, Steroids, and opioids.
All in low quantity, but high quality and density.
All of which would be injected into the Neko, now a soulless husk, simultaneously.
The Neko began convulsing and it's eyes rolled back.
When it stopped having seizures, it simply stayed sitting there, breathing with slow, measured breaths.
Another armored door opened, and a recently captured and "uneducated" Neko was brought in, and with a glint of glee in his eyes, Doc M spoke.
The Neko in the chair, now souped up on drugs, broke his restraints and leapt at the subject, brutally beating him into a pulp with his bare, furry fists.
Doc M walked out of the room as the armored doors shut, leaving the Neko to pulverize the Neko-punching bag.
As far as he was concerned, it was a resounding success.
Oh no, I have cancer
As in, I have a crab
A biker crab from MARS!
<they proceed to eat the EK-gators>
In other news, we now have 20-minute testing kits and a plethora of respectful citizens coming in to get tested. I'm very relieved
Don't give netflix ideas or I will strategically shave you into the look called Eau de Plucked Chicken