A boring day in Laminax Laboratories. Raytraxians arguing, fighting humans, or just having conversations. Humans running around, grabbing items, most of them in the middle of fights of their own.

Catte was busying himself, scrubbing at his bucket obsessively as he held it still in his lap. Sitting on top of a metal crate that was obviously not made with seating comfort in mind (as if crates are supposed to be seats anyways).