Big City Living (Midpoint Mingle)

[midpointmods]

The town of Midpoint: called thus because it is at the exact center of the game arena, a busy little Western town full of strange people, many of whom don’t look remotely human, because this is where all the players gather and live. Midpoint Saloon: called thus because it is the only bar in Midpoint. It’s also the biggest building in town, four stories high, dotted with windows, painted a jaunty yellow and decorated with red and green flowers in all the window boxes.

This is where your veteran teammate points you. Or just stomps off to and hopes you follow.

Downstairs is a bar and tavern, Old West style, right down to the upright piano in one corner and a raucous crowd of locals - largely locals, but with a healthy smattering of unusual or downright alien faces that clearly indicate the presence of other Players - eating, drinking, gambling, and getting into trouble. There’s a broad, bearded man behind the bar, waving cheerfully at you as you enter.

The rest of the night and the next day is yours to do with what you see fit. Explore the town, take a long nap in your new room, try to get to know people... everyone is here for the next twenty-four hours before travel to the mission site, so it’s a good chance to scope out the competition, at the very least.

Comments

Inara Serra | Firefly CRAU | New Player

[unofficial_ambassador]

I. Arrival

There's no way that whoever is running this game has been running things for this long with Inara in mind, but still a lot of this feels like a practical joke on her specifically. She's still wearing the sundress she'd put on this morning expecting to work at the shop's front counter - though now it's paired with a jacket as a concession to Soldat and a wide-brimmed hat in concession to the desert sun - and sitting awkwardly side-saddle in a saddle that wasn't intended for it. Her elaborately twisted braid has been let down as bait for her horse to keep him from chewing on things (her clothing, Soldat's clothing, other horses, pieces of Daylight) and the end is still damp and mangled.

And here they are, riding into a replica of the sort of town her friends used to do criminal nonsense in while she was doing a real job like a grown up. There are people here who are, in less than twenty four hours, going to be trying to foil a kidnapping attempt orchestrated by herself, the taciturn man who'd freed her from her cell, and a giant robot.

"Is there anything we should... keep in mind? For tonight?" She's still not certain how it all works, whether or not there are rules about how to act around other players.

II. Saloon

Despite the look of the place and its owner (she's not really familiar with Christmas traditions and the 'naughty' tattoo does briefly cause some consternation), Inara does manage to get some food that she can actually eat without too much fuss. Actually navigating a room full of strangers with an unknown social hierarchy after spending most of her life in these sorts of communal situations with small groups of people where she knows everyone, on the other hand, is a bit more intimidating.

After some consideration, she decides to spend the evening there and try to get to know as many people as she can.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

II. Saloon

[cicadashell]

"Yep," comes a low voice... from the empty seat.

Jiro's one anachronistic magic/tech item isn't a weapon, but a government-issued tactical jumpsuit with an interesting watch-like device built into one of the gloves. Invisibility cloaking; already more useful for him here than it was at home. Avoiding social interaction while watching everybody.

[unofficial_ambassador]

Thanks to her years of training in controlling her reactions Inara manages not to drop her food in surprise, but it's a near thing.

"What? How are you doing that?"

[cicadashell]

Is he... cackling? Yes, because he's a child. He turns off the watch and there's no fancy shimmering into view or anything. He's just suddenly there.

"Magic."

He reaches over to steal whatever he can get his hand on from Inara's plate.

[unofficial_ambassador]

She's a vegetarian, so he might wind up being disappointed with his haul.

"Have you been sitting there this whole time waiting to make that joke?"

[cicadashell]

"No!" which is an obvious lie.

The vegetables aren't disappointing, as he tends towards them himself. Meat is a last resort when animals are your friends.

"You been in this shithole long?"

[unofficial_ambassador]

Ah, teenagers. It seems they're like this everywhere.

"No, I've just arrived." The business casual shop clerk dress paired with various necessary cowboy accoutrements from the jail probably give her away. "What about you?"

[cicadashell]

"Same."

Seems a lot of people arrived recently. Jiro took nothing from the jail, looking like he's come from a black-ops mission or the like, minus the weapons.

"This whole thing sounds fucked up, right?"

[unofficial_ambassador]

That's not exactly how she’d have put it, but, "Yes. It does. I'm not looking forward to dying again."

Inara looks at her half-empty plate. "I could just get another plate if you're that hungry."

[ragingwolf]

The young man she's asked looks surly, but with an air of 'that's just how his face is'. He looks up from some kind of Asian inspired dish, and lifts his hat off the table so there's more space for her. "Go for it."

[unofficial_ambassador]

"Thank you." Inara places her plate of stir-fried vegetables on the table and gives him a slight bow of her head before sitting. She doesn't really blame him much for the surly expression. A lot is happening. Who knows what her own expression would look like now if she hadn't gone through such rigorous training to control it?

"My name's Inara, " she says. "I just arrived today." As if the dusty suede jacket she's wearing over her dress doesn't give her away.

[ragingwolf]

"Fuwa," he replies. His tone is even, at least, and he continues, "I've been here for something like three or four months now." Yet he's still wearing his modern overcoat with the furred hood. "I'm experienced, but not one of the oldest players here. Whoever picked you up from jail should have given you a run-down of this place."

[unofficial_ambassador]

"Yes, he did." Producing the words had definitely not come easily to Soldat but he’d managed eventually. "It's a lot to take in."

[ragingwolf]

Her complaint, of sorts, gets a wry smile out of Fuwa. "It is. I'd like to say you get used to it, but dying never gets any more fun."

[unofficial_ambassador]

"Hm." She doesn't doubt it. "Yes, I've tried it once already and it wasn't really my thing, though it doesn't sound like we have much choice in the matter."

[ragingwolf]

"Depends on your mission, really. If you get something about guarding, there's a much higher chance of being killed," he muses. But it's followed by a sour mumble, "If your teammates don't stab you in the back for it."

[unofficial_ambassador]

That doesn't actually make Inara feel much more secure considering that her first mission is a kidnapping. They'll probably have to kill guards.

There's a more pressing question right now, however. "Does that happen often? Turning on each other?"

II

[givemyrightarm]

Irene eyes the woman speculatively. "If you want it, take it."

Re: II

[unofficial_ambassador]

"Thank you." Inara places her plate of stir-fried vegetables on the table and gives the woman a small bow before sitting. "I'm Inara. I just got in from the jail." Her general dusty appearance likely gives her away.

[givemyrightarm]

"Irene." There is no answering bow, but neither does she comment on the dust.

(Inara may notice that Irene's meal portions are on the small side, and that all of her utensils as well as her tankard are on the right side of her plate.)

[unofficial_ambassador]

"Irene. Well met." Inara’s spent a lot of time working with veterans so the use of only one arm isn't that surprising. Most people that she'd known preferred to wear a prosthetic but that's not always possible in a place like this.

It's more surprising that she's not eating much. After that trip through the desert, Inara is famished. She picks up her chopsticks and starts eating. "Sorry I'm eating so much, " she says. It's usually impolite not match to your eating companion. "I'm not used to that kind of travel."

[givemyrightarm]

Irene shrugs. "It's fine. Humans have different requirements." She studies Inara for a moment. "You are human, correct? I'm not sensing any yoma energy from you..."

[unofficial_ambassador]

Ah. Many of the non-humans that Inara has met in her travels look much more unusual than Irene does, so she hadn't guessed. "I am, yes. Yoma energy isn't something I've heard of before."

[givemyrightarm]

And yet in Irene's own world, her appearance all but screams that she isn't fully human anymore. "In that at least, you're fortunate."

(She can't say she's truly fortunate because she knows nothing of Inara and her world, and in any case, they're both here.)

[unofficial_ambassador]

One thing that she had learned very quickly out on her own is that every world seems to have a few similar terrible things. Mind control, government experiments, the poison in her own blood. "Ah. I'm sorry."