For Makorai, the city limits was the best place to drink in the mornings. Despite its inherent danger, it represented his livelihood for almost a decade. Now, it represented a place he could no longer go without permission. Parting wasn't such sweet sorrow. He just liked the view. What was there to miss? He had a place to sleep, and whatever cash he managed to scrounge up, went to pleasure items. A gilded cage was still a gilded cage right? Makorai stood for a moment longer, and offered his final opinions on the matter. [color=forestgreen]"Fuck freedom."[/color]

The young man turned his back on the wall, like he had done many a morning before, sat on his motorbike, kicked the stand up, and drove off. He wasn't terribly concerned with being late for meeting one, or orientation, whatever they called it. He wasn't far off, and he always drove better when he was drunk. Makorai swerved suddenly, narrowly avoiding winging the mirror off of a car. [color=forestgreen]"I /am/ better at driving drunk."[/color] He said. More than words of reassurance, he had changed the nature of his travel. Positive thinking taken to a whole new, directly tangible level. 

Makorai disembarked, kicked the stand town, and took an even stroll up to the door. He knew the routine well enough, hello to the guards, drop his flask off in the basket. Pat down search for whatever.

Bidding the security guards a farewell, he took another slow stroll to the orientation room, where, upon opening the double door, he was greeted with his first listen of his fellows. 

Fuck Cult.

All-Daddy.

Pleasure Doll?

Popping a piece of gum, and hastily wiping his nose, he approached the group. Mako grabbed a chair, turned it around so he could lean on the back, and straddled the seat. 

[color=red]"All-Daddy? guess my reputation proceeds me."[/color] He offered them a quick smile, and promptly rested his arm, then his chin, on the back end of the chair.

[color=forestGreen]"I'm Makorai. Forgot what my rune is. Something about the future."[/color]