It's a surprisingly quiet ride. The passenger cart is nothing more than wood and a bit of cotton to cushion the seats but for some reason, even as the train hurtles along down the track, the cart remains silent. It only starts filling with noise when the passengers begin to stir.
There isn't any indication on how you got here. No grogginess, no injuries -- in fact, those who arrive with injuries might find them healed up completely (of course there are others who won't be so lucky) -- but in one blink and the next, you are here, on this train. Maybe you're even sitting next to a friend. Maybe a stranger.
Won't be any time to talk either, the train suddenly slowing down with enough of a jerk to throw its passengers back into their seats. A few seconds later, it comes to a complete stop and with a whistle, the doors open and a voice calls from outside. It's male, with a slight mechanical twang behind it and anyone who looks out the window towards the station can just about spot the portly man out on the platform.
"You might as well come on out, folks. You won't be getting any answers on the train."
Once everyone is out on the platform, the man stands before them taking an assessing look at each person. There is something very off about him, though he looks human enough -- but his eyes are too white, his skin too dry, and his hair is doesn't shine quite right. He is dressed in a flannel shirt, suspenders, and jeans, a cowboy hat atop his head and a badge pinned to his shirt that reads "Sheriff". After a moment, he gives a gruff nod and speaks again.
"Howdy. Real happy to see all of you. Explanations will come... Sunday morning, yeah. Give y'all a bit of time to meet each other. Settle in. Keys are on the table over there, hat and pistol in your room. Don't, er... Don't shoot each other right away but if you do, my office is over there. Go get some dinner, sun's about to set. Wouldn't want any coyote trouble."
And that seems to be... it. The Sheriff tips his hat and turns to head to the building with the large "Sheriff" sign on the front. There is a table nearby, keys neatly laid out for everyone with nametags attached to each one. An owl hoots in the distance and a breeze passes through the group. It's quiet again.
Welcome to game start! Characters will find their items in their hotel rooms and anyone who goes to visit the Sheriff after he leaves will find the station empty. On top of that, rulebooks will not be available to find until later. The Sheriff might be forcing it a little but it seems like the intent here really is to get everyone to interact with each other. If there are any questions, PM or hit up the plurk at ![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico) robowest! |
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robowest2017-01-13 05:59 pm
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[ Translation: go nuts, barkeep. HE CAN TAKE IT okay not really, swords can still get drunk. ]
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[ Well fine, she'll go wild.
It probably won't kill him. ]
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[ Like the concept of drinking buddies is a fun custom. ]
It's very lighthearted!
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[ Drinking buddies are great, unless they're Thomas, and then hot damn is she shutting herself in her room. ]
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[ At least he didn't say it was sad...! ]
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[ He rests his head on the table. ]
Make something nice! I trust you.
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But Sara will set down this (except not in a fancy glass, it's like in a dinky tin mug) in front of him. Whiskey, vermouth, something that said blood orange on it-- well, it should be fun.
Drinkable, at least. ]
Here you go!
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[ No time like the present! He takes a nice long sip... Only to take a choked breath right after he swallows. ]
That's... different from what I'm used to, haha.
[ With a smile though, he takes another drink from the mug. It has a hint of fruity sweetness that he likes enough to deal with the burn. This time, he's prepared! Fight him, alcohol. ]
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[ Please don't sputter and choke all over the place. ]
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[ A culture clash of alcohol here. Sake dishes are tiny for a reason and he likes that reason. ]
Why don't you try some too! Otherwise, I might fall asleep and you'll end up drinking alone.
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[ Pull her leg, why don't you. ]