midpointsaloon | Another Day, Another Dollar (post-round mingle)

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Another Day, Another Dollar (post-round mingle)

PLAYERS: Everyone!
LOCATION: Midpoint, and anywhere else people want to explore
GOAL: Time to relax after some hard-won rounds.
WARNINGS: None
OTHER: The setting post for those who want to explore

The stagecoach reaches the Ranch... and the cargo isn’t with it. A large, feathery dinosaur reaches the Ranch a little later, with only some of their cargo, having been hit mid-route and between transformations by the bandits.

“Well, we’ll take what we can get,” Lee says sourly at what’s left after the bandits’ raiding - maybe half of the empty crates. He hollers at his ranch hands, “Come get 'em, boys!” Between him and the other workers, and any of the remaining driver team able to be pressed into service (which is mostly just Groot), the crates are unloaded and stacked and filled with supplies for the next train out. Looks like they were useful, after all.

At the end of the day, Lee sends the drivers on their way back to Midpoint, and the bandits can do what they will with their portion of the cargo. Got any use for sturdy wooden crates, friends?

In Tycoon Depot, Tiffany Jamesson has spent a(n enjoyable) day and a half in hiding with Inara, Daylight, and Irene, peppering Daylight with questions and flirting demurely with Inara and Irene, presumably out of boredom. The hand-off with her father goes pretty smoothly, with only Fuwa on the outside - he might be furious, but he's not willing to interrupt and risk the target’s life in a firefight.

Exchange made, kidnappers and bodyguards are free to head back to Midpoint.

In the saloon, North has laid out a buffet of everyone’s favorite foods to choose from, with beer and wine on the house for two days only: the traditional post-round congratulations-or-consolations feast. There’s someone on the piano almost all night providing music, and extra hot water for baths whenever people finally retires to their rooms. Most Players make good use of the additional free food and drink for as long as it lasts; whether for enjoyment, self-medication, or to stave off boredom is their own call.

The dead don't remain so for long, and wake up in jail cells - the same ones they started their round at - at the edges of the game arena around the same time as the round ends, ready to be collected by friends - if there’s anyone who wants to come get them.

The next week and a half belong to the Players to do with what they please, be it sleep all day, spend their hard-earned points on more alcohol, ask lots of questions, or explore the arena. There are no events planned, nothing to steal, no one to murder (unless you really want to, anyway), and plenty of things to learn about and try to get to the bottom of, for any Players not too jaded to try and search. Good luck with that, anyway.

Oh - did you want to know if you won, or how badly you lost? Gonna have to ask North or Booker for your points totals, because there’s nobody who actually announces whether you won or lost...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"That'd be nice. You'd like the special effects if nothing else, it all looks so real. It's amazing." It's happy, it's brilliant. Something truly removed from their surroundings. "Wouldn't mind sitting through some stuff you know, though. That'd be nice."

"They have Wizard of Oz." Which... actually they watched all of one time, and cried quietly through most of it. It might be easier with someone here who knows them. "And a bunch of Marx Brothers shit." Those, they did not cry through. Didn't laugh as much as the films deserved, though.

"Haven't seen the Marx Brothers, but I've seen Oz? I'd like to try all of them, sometime when we're both a little more rested." A fun outing, or the closest this place will readily provide at little personal cost. It's enough, really. She's happy to have something mundane to do with him. "Happy stuff, funny stuff. We deserve a good mood for an afternoon, yeah? Gonna acquire some old humor for myself."

Fun might be over-stating it, if it's Oz, but they'll see how it goes. At least Misty will be understanding. "Got a good week and a half until the next round. Should be plenty of time." Time for everything. A patrol around the game arena, attempting to be social, and a movie or two.

And maybe a gift. If they can swing it.

She'll make fun out of anything, old films included. So the tip of her head is characteristically hopeful. "Good. Time to make the most of it, and take some really ridiculous, luxurious baths in the meantime. I want to decompress."

"Hard to be luxurious when I hardly fit in one," Soldat points out, but it's amiably. They're used to the tubs here, and are pretty good at managing to use them to relax. "Still better than the ones in Brooklyn, though."

"There we go, there's the silver linings I like to see so much." Not that she can't laugh; everything's always just a little unideal, isn't it? "And we've got time enough, we'll fix something better when we're bored enough. Hot water's enough for now."

"Brooklyn, had to share with my sisters. Or Steve. And they always got the hot water." This is a memory, or set of memories, they hadn't had in Beacon. For some reason, having a bathtub alone in Midpoint Saloon dredged those up.

Bittersweet, that. And new to her. Maybe new to him. The sidelong glance cast from over in her saddle is a tender one. "Good news there is I don't think there's any leaving you without hot water again, so there's another plus. Best this place can give you, you'll have."

He reaches over again, their horses close enough still as they walk that if she leans a little, they can clasp wrists, or hands if she's so inclined. "Promise I'll take it easy. Still got a round I need to do of the arena for a couple days, but that can wait a little."

She opts for hand, the idea of his gaping, blistering absence, death, still too fresh. There's a smile at least.

"Thank you, that's perfect."

They'll lace fingers, then, at least for a minute or two. "You can come," they offer. "When I go on my patrol. Wouldn't mind company, if you don't mind sleeping rough for a couple nights."

It's a loose, sudden-part friendly grip; he's got his limits and he'll have them for some time, and she knows enough to preempt that. The offer goes over quite well. If he's watching her, he'll likely know her answer before she can speak.

"Not at all! You kidding? Stars overhead, fire, without the worry of people shooting at us it's kind of nice out here. I'll tag along, make sure you've got someone to take down all those important patrol musings."

They're always paying attention to her reactions, even when ostensibly not looking at her. There's always part of Soldat's attention on Misty whenever she's in their line of sight or earshot. "Not a lot of musings, really. It's. Always been pretty quiet, actually. But I ain't had anyone with me in a while, either."

"Even better, fresh experience, someone to point out snakes to you and get way too excited about it." No danger to it, but some wonder, at least on her end. More of the wildlife will be frankly rejuvenating. "Campfire talks! Someone to help keep an ear out while you sleep."

Complete isolation while sleeping sucks. In her humble experience. Roommates are a godsend.

Out in the open, it's not so bad; it's when there's an actual bed that it becomes a problem, being alone. But maybe being out in the open with another person will be even better. (Hey, everything's better with her around. I know. You're right.) And everything seems better, when they've got Sarge and the Asset back in their head.

"Settled, then. Three days to recover. Then three days around the arena. Or four, depending on how long it takes." And those are three or four days Soldat doesn't have to worry about being social, too. It'll be a nice break.

There's the barest increase of pressure around his hand, fully understood to have as much effect as a squeeze with less potential to be disruptive. It's just emphasis. "Holding you to that, now. I'm excited, it's official, no lettin' me down."

Jest, of course. Were it derailed for a worthy cause she'd be sporting about it.

But camping sounds fantastic.

There's really nothing in this place that could derail that particular plan. Maybe Sam or Daylight or Jo, or maybe Inara or Hajime, being killed outside a round, and Soldat needing to go collect them, but that's vanishingly unlikely. They're all careful.

They squeeze gently back, then extract their fingers so they can ride more easily. "It might not be as exciting as you think it's gonna be. But I won't back out." It does sound nice. Camping out here isn't as bad as camping on the front, though they're still not really fond of it.

Peacefully go the ride home, and to some moderate extent the promised days of recuperation afterward. Rounds don't seem to leave others champing at the bit to spew pleasantries at Soldat, but nobody's killed and that's victory enough. Come time to ride out she's back to her standard shy-of-chipper self, Tenterhooks seemingly pleased for a peaceful ride.

And typical heat aside, it is largely just that. Uninterrupted stretches of dirt get boring, but there's enough wildlife and settlement dotted throughout - even if only in the distance - that it's bearable. Soldat is, of course, terrific company anyway.

Camp is made more efficiently on the second night. Rust shaken off, a fire forms from nothing beside where they've cozied up to the side of a bluff. The moon overhead is light enough to travel by if they had to, but it's even better for stationary marveling at. To Misty, anyway. Out of any night winds and warm enough, she sprawls lazily back onto her bedroll. There's dinner to fix, but. A minute.

"A lot about this place sucks, but this part's nice. The atmosphere, the...I can't say freedom, but it feels good to get to just do this. I like having a horse nearby I could rocket off on in any direction. I like the snakes. Suppose the shittier aspects make the nicer company stand out even more." On perhaps a marginally more practical note to make up for the rambling, "Our options are all canned, so do you have a favorite canned meat or am I surprising you?"

"You like the snakes?" Soldat asks from where he's giving the nameless draft mare a final brushing off, vaguely amused by the thought. The first day had been weird, having someone else with them on their patrol, but the second day was almost okay. Not quite, but almost. If it had been anyone but Misty, it still probably wouldn't be. But her presence is less like sand and more like water, not caustic but soothing. Just... weird, still.

"I do!" She says, too glib to be defensive. Hands laced to cradle the back of her head, she can't quite bring herself to turn to shoot any looks. Too pretty, that sky. "They're cool. Ain't like they're mean critters, you know? They're just little coils of muscle, sniffing the air and looking for a sunny place to warm up. We're not seeing them in comfortable positions is all."

God knows Tenterhooks is with Soldat on this one, at least. He's quite adept at lunging away if and when he's unfortunate enough to spot one.

"You make 'em sound like me," Soldat points out with clearer amusement, this time, and comes back to the little fire to tuck the curry comb away and settle down on their own bedroll. "That is one good thing about this place. Plenty of sun. It took me a week to get used to it again. Sunlight. Shoulda seen how pale I was, Jesus. Like a cave troll."

Laughter bubbles up, followed quickly by, "That's a good way to think of it! They're all nice fellas, just got some bad rep to work through and a real hankering for the sun." Suddenly contemplative of herself, both arms extend skyward for some lighthearted scrutiny. Pale as she was going on, it would be hard to say she'd somehow gotten even paler without going translucent. No visible veins, and considering how fastidious she is about shading headwear the Midpoint Tan is held barely at bay.

Of course, discerning the current shade is quite a task considering they're washed out at all angles with silvery moonlight or flickering red-gold.

"I'm gonna come out all olive now, you're putting that in my head. Too on top of your hair to ever be a troll, if it's any consolation."

"Nothing wrong with that," Soldat says warmly. "Sun-kissed. Unless you burn, that's never fun." They pause, frown. Even now, they're still sometimes getting new memories, and here's one: "Steve used to burn. I remember. Tip of his nose would be one big peel all summer. I never did unless I was really dumb about sun."

Her smile is sympathetic for more than the one person, but not downturning anytime soon. "The worst, that. Which is why we're going to stay very smart about sun! I worry too much over little things as it is. This place isn't as cushy, but we'll make do, I'll rig up some kind of sunscreen. Firm grip on our hats, we'll pull through."

A pause, before she suddenly sounds hopeful. "There any kind of real winter here?"

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