Name duddnt matter, the plot's the same. All you gotta do to leave is think that you wanna go. It's fun, man. I can't give you the Fluki Guarantee on this one, pal. Sounds like bad karma to this Saren.
Monster games gone awry, that's just fiction.
I walked back home, handy umbrella and waterproof backpack keeping C'atel's constant rains away from my deck and trodes. The party breaks up as it usually does every single night of the week, Eroki begging Fluki to dance, Fluki refusing as he says it's 'conformist mass media', and Eroki wandering off to dance on her own. Fluki usually gets bored waiting and heads home, and I head home shortly after that. I got back to my cheap C'atel pad, the one with the 6-foot tall erotic dancer hologram advertising the seedier shops below my apartment. The view's great, but repetitive as the owner didn't bother paying for extra frames, and the think goes on the blink occasionally, horribly mutating the dancer's form to something no sane man should have to see.