midpointsaloon | 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

[Hey, Soldat learned how to tease just like that: deadpan but slightly dry.]

If I did that for hours at a time riding, then I won't be flexible for long.

[Getting back to brushing, they add, more seriously,]

Soap knows horses. If there's a problem while they're here, he handles it. If there's a problem out on a mission. We deal with it as best we can.

[And, after a pause, they finish,]

The horses get revived sometimes, too. If they die. Like us.

[Jo hums a vague noise of understanding at the first answer, but when he mentions that the horses come back too, well...

Great. Zombie horses?

Wait, does it count as a zombie? (Do Dean and Sam count as zombies? They never wanted brains. She'll have to think on that later.)]

I'll have to decide if that's a good thing or not. [She does have a question related to that.]

How do people come back?

The game makers collect our bodies, fix them, and drop us off in one of the prisons.

[This is normal. Soldat was familiar with that kind of coming back even before here. Even before Beacon.]

I've died many times. You probably will, too.

[Jo frowns at both the thought and his admission.

She doesn't like the thought of it. Generally, she's the one left behind when others die.]

I don't plan on dying here. [Jo has things to do. Demons to take care of.]

I hope you don't, then.

[They don't sound particularly hopeful that she won't, though. They give the big draft mare one more brush down, then unhook her halter, looking past her nose again at Jo.]

Is there anything I can help you out with? With the horse or the saloon or... anything.

[Jo sighs, ignoring him for a moment as she tries to think of other questions. She's reluctant to trust anyone here, but if he has information...]

How much are horses supposed to eat? I've never had one of my own before.

Oat mash twice a day, or hay three times. Or a combination. Depends on the horse. This one gets more than yours would, for example, and richer.

[They pat the draft mare's shoulder.]

Because she's bigger. And has to haul my heavy ass around all the time.

[Maybe the library will have books on this. It's just like an old car. She has to learn the quirks.]

Are the horses really the only transportation?

Well, you've got feet.

[That was a joke, mostly. Soldat gives a more thorough answer right on its heels:]

There are stagecoaches you can call for, but they cost points. And there's the train. So long as you don't pick a day when it gets blown off its tracks.

[Jo groans at the joke, letting her head fall forward against the horse's mane.]

Is there a schedule for the train, or do we just have to guess?

It changes by week, but North or Booker will always know. They depend on the train for supplies.

[Well, technically. In name, anyway. Soldat is not sure that's actually true, since the saloon stays fairly well stocked even when the train has been blown up, but North does visibly bring supplies in whenever the train does pass by Midpoint.]

[Jo ponders that information for a moment. She isn't certain she trusts either of them, but North feels more approachable.

Of course, she's always thought that of bartenders.]

Thank you. I'll talk to one of them.

Good. They're here to help us. Mostly, anyway. They watch us, too, I'm sure.

[Soldat's fond of them both, but they can never forget who they work for, more than any of them. Or that Booker can be hacked, poor guy.]

[Now that's an interesting addition.

She watches North for a moment before turning back to Soldat.]

What are they watching for, exactly?

Another Day, Another Dollar (post-round mingle)

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