Scene #8000: RIFTS: Boothill

Owner	Pose
Lilian Rook	Little has physically changed in Boothill since the Paladins last visited. Things don't change all that easily in podunk little rural places like this, and Boothill isn't even a highway drive-through at that. Yet, after putting several wildly overpowered through the internal organs of the neuron beast lurking nearby, ever so accurate to Tamamo's predictions, it feels like an entirely different town (technically a village?). That is to say, it looks and sounds like the set of an old spaghetti western, with the sole distinction being that the wooden facades and signs are mounted on perfectly functional buildings and the character clothes people are wearing are actually robustly tailored for general use and outdoor weather on the Colorado prairie. Even the odd firearm carried leather-holstered here and there looks like an ancient revolver or lever-action. Without the pall of electric hostility and suspicion --without windows barred, women and children indoors, steely-eyed posses gathered on each dusty street corner-- it has a relaxed, sort of burbling energy about it, as are the sunny 'peak hours' of a community with two thousand people but a main street that actually sees enough trade from around the area that it has a general store, saloon, gun store, grocers, gambling parlour, and oddly, electronics. After all the shit they gave you last time, it's a little weird that people don't seem to pay you any more mind than 'oh hey, some travellers coming through', mostly amounting to pleasant greetings and some politely removed hats for the womenfolk. The sheriff is nowhere to be seen on the street, which is a good thing; probably back to his half-assed ways. Given nobody else important has visibly existed out of town hall or the church in the last couple of brief visits, there are safe assumptions to be made. Minimal walking indicates that there is no other traffic but a single other caravan just about to leave, down the other end of the main street, having successfully unloaded all but the last of their cargo and about to hit the road.
Ioanna Langstrom	It's...fascinating, to see how the culture reverted. The Dee-Bees that have changed the world, the magic, the technology, the rifts themselves - and yet this place has gone so far back that its culture predates twenty-first-century Earthlikes. In defiance of all logic the place has gone from what was probably a very advanced city to...well, cowboys. Ioanna has been reading up on the subject of the cowboy era and its culture as a result of that particular curiosity. In order to better fit in the MCM has seen fit to grant her a more stereotypical cowgirl outfit than the big adventurer duster - though the massive gun remains slung over her shoulder one-handed, something that on any other world would probably make people stare. But here, it's... Well...expected, she supposes. The caravan, though, is the odd thing out, so it's the caravan she goes to speak to. After a bit of small talk as an introduction she says, "What sort of imports do you regularly bring here?"
Mack	Mack mostly foregoes the pageantry. He's dressed as he usually is, and rides up on a busted-ass hoverbike that looks like it's been used to ram down barricades more than once. His only concession is the stetson made of some kind of weirdly-colored hide and studded with bits of ornamental scrap. It goes with the ensemble without being too high-effort. "Man, breathe that non-paranoid air," the mutant sighs. He takes a deep, rattling breath, exhaling pleasantly as he hitches his bike. "This place is so much nicer without the threat of impending violence, eh?" He heads towards the sheriff's office at a leisurely pace. He's got a delivery to make, but he can take his sweet time doing it.
Ishirou	Ishirou was a little bewildered at just how much things changed. He expected /some/ change, but this was like night and day. Had that thing really affected the area so much? He wonders how long had it really been active, feeding on them. It was a parasite, obviously. "Yeah...less oppressive to be sure," Ishirou says. Hmm...he wonders how the beast could affect the area? He looks for signs of totems or foul and negative emotion-driven magics to see if there was some sort of amplifier. It should be taken in for study if there is one. On the other hand, finding it would help them prevent the next one that might appear from just starting from where the last one left off.
Hellwarming Trio	Since the last time they were here, the youkai duo are looking... About the same as they always do. Dripped out, they are not, but it does at least make them easier to recognize for the locals. Utsuho's still in her white and green (and whatever weird colors are visible on the inside of her cape that even she can't explain), and Rin is still in her black and green while they float about to inspect their work from a distance. They wave in return at those greeting them, and they reach for nonexistent hats out of reflex for those that greet them that way. Utsuho: "We should get hats." Rin: "But where'd we find hats that'll fit?" Utsuho: "Don't humans make them? Maybe they'll have some here." And so, they poke around at the general store for a while, looking for cool hats that'll actually fit their heads. Whether they end up with hats by the time they're done is another matter, but they're going to linger in there either way. They do feel some responsibility for building this place up, after all, and that means inquiring about any worries the storekeeper might still have about this built-up town after everything else has been settled.
Strawberry Princess	Strawberry's summer-camp-esque way of dressing out of costume feels a little less strange, here. The only concessions that need to be made to practicality are wearing boots instead of sneakers for the dust, and tying her canvas jacket around her waist by the sleeves instead of wearing it in the heat. "It's a lot nicer than being menaced," she says, before the group splits up. "I kind of like the atmosphere, I think. Don't you?" A man takes his hat off in her direction; she smiles awkwardly back at him, then whispers to the group: "What does that mean? I don't have a hat. What do I do back?" She heads for the grocer's, stopping in just briefly to check out the kinds of things they grow and eat around here. Some of it's likely to be imports, but she's looking for a general concrete sense of what this community 'produces' and 'does'. It's got to be something other than standing around with guns, right?
Go Shijima	"I wondered if it was just me," says Go to the passing Mack, before a deep breath. Rolling up the sleeves of his red flannel, "It almost seems cleaner." One hand shading his eyes, the other stuffed into the pocket of his jeans, he surveys the street from the peace of a corner storefront. "Sheriff's inside, no 'posses,'" he says, sounding quietly pleased to have the chance to say 'posse.' Actually, this is probably the happiest he's been during this whole affair. "People seem happier. Carefree, even!" A warm, relieved smile crosses his face. There's not much point staying out of the way of traffic, he soon discovers, with that caravan presenting most of today's. He'll eventually make his way to Ioanna out of simple curiosity, but the way there is halting, thanks to bouts of small talk with townsfolk on the way. It's mostly a purely social thing--but there are a few questions thrown in, here and there, to try and get an early lead on anything that'd require, or benefit from, Paladin attention.
Tony Stark	"Jarvis, find me something fun to do." "Of course sir, though I still don't believe that's a proper way to refer to humanitarian work." Crunching into an apple, Tony gazes across his circle of screens, spinning in his rotating stool laconically. "Granted, and if I was sitting in the situation room with a bunch of go-getter crisis analysts trying to put Earth's mightiest defenders to worthy tasks, I'd ask for something more specific." "And?" JARVIS asks, failing to find an actionable statement. "Find me something fun, Jarvis." The AI sighs, oblidgingly. "Yes, sir." AND SO, AFTER GEOLOCATING 'FUN' ACROSS THE MULTIVERSE... Anthony 'Iron Man' Stark arrives on the set of a real spaghetti western world, his almost-close-enough attire a blue collared shirt with the top button open, a black vest, tan belt, black slacks and socks, and tan dress-casual leather shoes. The buttonholes at his collar and cufflinks have little silver studs set with dark blue beads, and he wears a large all-metal watch on his left wrist, which his sleeve only half-covers. He moseys - as that is the technical term - past Ishirou to tail Ioanna into the town square, to stop, look around, and shake his head. "Okay. Yep. Cowboy town, you got me." His watch buzzes. "The parameter was 'fun'."
Lilian Rook	The caravan, oddly enough for the technological level of this world (and indeed, the semi-intact wreck the monster had been squatting on) is largely made up of genuine horse-drawn carriages and extra pack-carrying mules. She can examine them all she likes, but they're really just hardy animals. The wagons, at least, subtly have some kind of metalloid plating and kevlar-esque weave inserted between the wooden slats and sewb between sandwiched layers of canvas, which says something about the dangers of the road. It's well-defended, if not particularly well-armed, largely by the large number of rough-looking men carrying rifles still in their light body armour, all rusty tans and olives layered over old-fashioned trail clothes. She finds that there's actually just one man in charge of doing the actual trading. Given the way he's talking to the proprieter of a pop-up bank building and looking over a clip sheaf of papers, she can guess that he might be the only one who can read and do math well enough for it. He's pleasant enough though. She's informed that he's from further out east, most of the caravan is trusted and retained hired help, and they bring the electronics manufactured in larger towns based around corporate industry (Wilks comes up a few times) out west, trading them at a fat markup to farming, ranching, mining, drilling, and other such staple industry towns, parting with prized pieces for 'valuables' (if pressed, gold, salvage, 'mystical items' from the prairies), then selling it all back to the factory towns and repeat. He says it's outrageously dangerous, but rewarding and exciting. He also asks if she's a 'ranger'. Ishirou's scanning around finds extremely little of magical relevance. His sensors do ping a few items, but they're the odd bauble innocuously sitting in general and curio stores, a few stronger ones from the gun shop, and more in the back of the sherriff's office; likely confiscated items. None of them seem like they could amplify anything, but they do amount to a strong enough signal to attract the attention of a magically receptive entity and repeatedly guide it back to town. The obvious takeaway is that the creature hadn't simply been mind-controlling everyone, but repeatedly making visits with its invisibility (incorporeality?) ability and individually screwing with people's heads, manipulating them with precision psychic powers and poisonous words to turn the discourse toxic. Probably over weeks. Getting a hat is trivially easy for the youkai duo. Cool, snazzy hats. They're asked 'credit or trade', but the barter price is fairly trivial. If they can't think of anything to fork over, the storekeep offers to let the 'little ladies' have cool hats for fixing his fence and patching up his roof. Go's small talk to everyone in town is productive. The ladies broadly find him interesting and charming, being the rogueish city runaway he is, in this somewhat boring strip of dirt, and talk to him the most. Mostly, they indicate the Boothill is unusually well-off for the west; they have 'what passes for lawmen' (in their tittering opinion of Holden), a bank that handles 'both kinds of credits' which is a lure to traders, productive land, a whopping two town doctors and three mechanics, and even a television and radio 'station' (really, there's just a single TV in a few business buildings).
Lilian Rook	Their main concern is the inherent danger of living out here. Their last brush with 'desperado fever' reminded them that 'life out west is hard even with the law'. They aren't very well versed in exactly what that means, but they tell him that while bandits and outlaws are a pretty rare occurrence for a town of this side, the 'Simvan tribals', 'werebeasts', 'loogaroo', 'stalkers', and a sundry list of weird monsters, are much less discriminating about a 'large' (really? this?) town with lots of guns. They also gossip about militaristic expansion from the midwest, further east, but so far their few encounters with 'the states' ended in very little happening; the west is perceived as 'safe' in that way. Mack finds Holden in his original posture; slacking off at the front of his building and a cool half a bottle in at midday. He smiles lazily as if he doesn't even remember the hunter, but does, eventually, adjust his hat apologetically, stand up proper out of his chair, and awkwardly apologize for the 'mistaken identity fiasco', then ask his business. Lilian sends the Tacticavendish Heatherettes to meet up with Ioanna and then follows Strawberry around on her visit to the grocers. "It means they're the 'code following' types. I did a little research. With lawful stability in short supply, there's a shadow of a sense of chivalry out here, about that old movie lifestyle these people worship. Taking off hats is a sign of respect from men to women." Strawberry finds the grocers actually very well stocked, and a butcher shop next door. She can easily discover that the town must be at least halfway farming-based, as there are ample examples of five staple grain products, most every vegetable you can grow in rows out here, fresh milk and cheese, and obviously meat. If she cares to ask, anyone can tell her the rest of the town's income comes from 'the mine down the road'. It is The Road. Everyone knows which road. Arina and Satsuki mostly just bumble into Tony first. "Ah! Mister Stark! I didn't know that you'd be here too! I've heard--" "What, you don't like it? Isn't it kind of romantic? You know, cowboys and outlaws and all those things from American movies." "Weren't they Italian?" "What?! No way!" "Then why are they called 'spaghetti westerns'?"
Ioanna Langstrom	Ioanna listens attentively the whole time. Like, actively. Like, with noticable interest. She's not passively listening and nodding along, she's asking pointed questions at points, inquiring about the valuables, and otherwise actually...well, being interested. She asks about the methods of trade, but finally, she veers into a more important topic: "I know that Boothill has been having trouble with bandits. You cover a great deal more territory, from what I understand - do you usually have trouble with that sort of thing? Are the roads especially safe for travel?"
Ishirou	Ishirou's scans reveal that...well, it was just doing this over a long period of time. Simply put, like a farmer, he planted the seeds of toxicity and then reaped the benefits over time. Ishirou wonders just how long that it could have been sustainable? Did the monster even /care/ if it was? Tapping his fingers along his shoulders he wonders. He does make a note of the magical items and their locations. He decides to approach the sheriff about this. Maybe they could make something for them to store these things, and avoid the attention of monsters that might be attracted by magical items. It'd at least make the area a /little/ safer.
Tamamo	Is Tamamo here? Yes. Is she still dressed in 'local' cowgirl fashion? Also yes. The thigh holsters for her talismans are plenty convenient. The way her ears are restricted from full motion while pushing through the slots in her wide-brimmed hat is somewhat less so. <Tac-Paladins> 4 Tamamo says, "Oh, shall anything do, if it is 'to establish a presence?'" <Tac-Paladins> 4 Tamamo says, "It is good that they have recovered from the recent trouble of that fiendish whisperer, and I see little to suggest great illness troubles them, yet I know such has a tendency to be merely endured, and so, I shall go and see their physicians, I think, to provide my blessings." Having heard that there are two doctors (which is certainly better than one), Tamamo plans to visit both, starting with whichever she's told is closer by. Though specific illnesses are best served with specific cures, she can simplify the process a great deal by providing a strong blessing of fortune to the building itself, which will improve any act of healing that takes place inside it. And she can introduce herself as a healer working with the Paladins, in the meantime.
Mack	Mack doesn't have the height to loom while the sheriff lazes about in front of his office. He does nudge his hat in the barest motion of acknowledgement, and then patiently waits for the return. Once he gets an apology, he gives him the ol' disapproving stare-down... for a few seconds, anyway, and then follows up with a metallic grin and an offer of a shake. "It's nothin', Sheriff. It isn't like I've never been nearly run out of town before. Anyway, got something for you." "Where I come from," he says, "it's good luck to do things in threes. So, first -" Mack produces a short bit of electronics like a flash drive and passes it over. "- some recorded parts of how the encounter with the thing that was messing with your people went. Figured you ought to know it was done, aside from the obvious vibe of the whole town." He rummages for a moment. "Second, this." Another piece of electronics. A small, hardy, handheld radio set. It's of local manufacture. "It's got the frequencies for our local radio, so you can give us a ring if something bigger than the usual rustlers rolls up and you want a hand. Figure you're the kind of guy who'd like to have other hands be the busy ones, eh?" Mack gives him a sly look. "And finally, the most important..." Mack produces... a bottle. A brown bottle, in fact. A handmade label reads, in what someone assumes is a fancy, steady hand, 'LUMMOX LAGER.' "...libations from afar. Let me know what you think. Friend of mine is collecting feedback for a new brew." Ishirou comes on over for business. Mack tips his hat and steps back, watching the road with a look of general satisfaction on his face. There's little he enjoys more than the pay-off for a job well done, and this is the best kind.
Hellwarming Trio	Paying with credits would be the easy way to get some neat hats considering that the youkai are actually paid, but the promise of getting to get them for free is enough to get them to stick around and help with fixing the place up. Comparing the monetary and time costs of doing such a thing isn't really one of their better skills yet, but it works out in their favor in a weird indirect sort of way considering their plans with the rest of their coworkers out here. Utsuho: "So... What's with the damage, anyway?" Rin: "Yeah, pops. Did somethin' come through and smash it up?" Utsuho: "Hm... Is anything else coming by and smashing up other people's stuff?" Rin: "Heck, what kinda news have you been hearin' out here? Any other crazy monsters goin' around causing trouble? We might be able to take care of it!" It's also an opportunity to learn a bit about using hammers and other tools they've mostly just seen humans use while they're at it. They're actually being careful, if nothing else. They're not about to jeopardize relations just to get done fast!
Go Shijima	Go's all smiles, when it comes to conversation. It's genuinely relieving to see that people are feeling well enough not only to indulge in it, but to do it with smiles of their own. Once he's gotten to the caravan, he takes a moment to commit what he's heard to memory-- So there are things that are either mean, or ruthless, or wild enough not to be scared off by guns. No wonder they think a town this size is large--it sounds like the country's lousy with this kind of thing. ...any kind of solution'll need to be one that can protect the town from all of them in one swoop. "Hey, Ioanna," he says, after a moment's thought. "It turns out there's a lot of things out there--" Glancing towards the armored wagon, "...that are dangerous. Like, a whole list of them. It's gotta be really hard to get any kind of permanent settlement down, if people use words like 'big' for a place with one TV station," he says quietly. "Do you think hiding the town could work?"
Tony Stark	The Heatherettes move through city terrain in the RIFTS (tm) MEGAVERSE (tm) MULTIVERSAL FOES OF NORTH AMERICA (r) conversion supplement for DEADLANDS (tm) a Palladium (c) production, and roll a 81: Power Armor Jock --- Tony, in the town center, slides a pair of dark-framed thick glasses over his eyes and taps the side, causing no outward visual effect but him gain a far-off, distracted look right as the girls enter into view with face-showing Action Cards (c) fresh off the deck. "Oh, hello girls." Tony turns at the neck to look over his shoulder, and then spins more frontally about, right hand raised, left hand couching right elbow. "I didn't know until today I would be here either. I had some leave I was forced to take by my doctor, and then the Asgardians went to war with some dark mirror world full of..." He squints. "Ylves? Knockoff elves, but pointier and more aloof-evil-er." He shrugs. "So I was locked up until the summer equinox until the Bifrost was repaired. I -told- them I could fix it. Heimdall told them off for trying to test me if they weren't going to let me touch it after I proved them wrong:" He smirks. "So I kicked back with the beards until the rainbow bridge was back. As for the movies: They were made in Italy. It was cheaper. So yes, they are Italians, if they're accurate movie westerns."
Strawberry Princess	"Adherence to a code," Strawberry repeats to Lilian, then nods once after turning that over in her head. "I think I get it. It's... a signal to other people, right? That you'll treat them in a certain way, and expect to be treated a certain way too. Things like that are nice. It's simple." She does think to ask what it is that The Mine actually mines, but otherwise most of her time at the grocery store is spent appreciatively examining the produce with Arina and Satsuki. At the end, she walks out with a little basket full of celery, parsnips, beets, and local cheeses, and soon catches back up with Ioanna (and whoever else is at the caravan). Ioanna is offered a small raw beet. The pink tinge on Strawberry's lips shows that she's dead serious. "Want one? They're kind of peppery." After an acceptance or refusal: "Did you know anything about 'the Mine' they've got nearby? Seems like it's most of the town's business. You think we should have a look at it?"
Lilian Rook	Methods of trade is a strangely complicated question. Everyone in America knows about the 'universal credit', essentially virtual money loaded onto a disposable card that acts like an extremely granular bearer bond, having the advance of being incredibly stable and difficult to hack or counterfeit and inherently safer in some respects than actual credit cards, but the massively influential economic concept is guaranteed by 'The Coalition States' to the east; something even the traders pronounce with some degree of controlled misgiving. This is apparently good because it's a vast and stable empire, early in its lifespan. It's bad because a lot of people don't like them one bit, and have their own little competing credit standards. A lot of trade is centralized about 'redeemable value' of common, standard commodities that everyone uses; essentially the price that the CS will buy them for. Units of energy weapon ammo as well as raw metals and oil tend to be stable and always saleable. He laughs at the very concept of being safe for travel. He says that the eastern 'New West' is safer than the west, but only because it becomes more of a 'death trap' the further you go. Relative vicinity to the small baronies and kingdoms that persist on the borders of CS territory keep the number of horrors low and the 'lost territories', to 'vampires' and 'the bugs' are further away to the south and west, but even out here, any old monster can bumble into you from wandering out of a rift hundreds of miles away without encountering humans, or you could be attacked by D-Bee 'raiders' or 'tribals'. There are plenty of vigilante justice types that patrol the area and check up on things, troubleshooting as they go. 'Reid's Rangers' and 'Cyber Knights' are apparently the most common and respected, with some distaste for the 'Apocalypse Cavalry' in the area, but they're infinitely better than nothing. How safe the roads are is a matter of luck, proximity to civilization, and how well you can shoot something dead. Holden does his best to play off the brief tension with Mack via an easygoing laugh, and looks a little too intently at a hard drive --probably knowing he's going to have to go to the only person in town who can play it-- but he accepts the radio with a sort of humbled reverence for what it actually means to a frontier town, and the liquor with a big slap on the Back of Mack. "Well, must've been something from the rifts for us to be lookin' sideways at a right upstanding fella like this! Sure you won't stay for a round?" A more serious pause. "Folks wanna go about business like usual, but we know you folks done right by us, and that means a lot out here. If you come runnin' when we need it, we'll come running when you do. That's how it works our here. Us types honour the Code." He reacts to Ishirou's claim of magical bullshit with a confused sort of slow comprehension, then goes "Oh, what the stuff we confiscated from them . . ." He makes pointless hand gestures. "Spirit wizard types? Shamans? Ain't found much to do with any of 'em, but seems unsafe to try disposin' of 'em with a hammer or a bonfire. You need'a take a look?"
Lilian Rook	The owner of the general store is content to sit behind the counter with the back door open and patiently tell the youkai exactly what to do with pickets and shingles. Oddly, the underlayer of the roof isn't actually tarred, but some kind of dull semi-reflective metal that looks probably 'bulletproof' by an outrageous definition. He says that the roof is just weather --out here the storms get really bad apparently, blowing off from the northwest (uncoincidentally, the site of the leyline nexus the Paladins have secured-- but the fence is probably the work of 'varmints' rooting around. What he means by that is apparently the intrusion of wild interdimensional monsters of the level that can be handily resolved by a daring shop-owner with a laser rifle. It's not like the town is surrounded by a wall like in Lilian's world. Speaking of which, Satsuki puts on a sort of poker face that would look very aristocratic if it weren't plain she just started doing it because she's pouting about Arina being right (the tiny blonde even manages the ghost of a smug grin and an elbow). Mostly they're both fascinated by the bullshit spun to them that is all undoubtedly true. Arina begins assailing him with questions about 'what kind of elves', indulging in nerdy hyperspecific differences between Slavic, Scandinavian, and Celtic lore, trying to divine how accurate this all is to the Norse words she hears in it. Satsuki is more objective-minded about it though, folding her arms and contemplating for a while, before asking "But it's not just a total coincidence you'd come here, is it? " Even if he doesn't speak Japanese, the vague conference of Understanding is that it's an unusually blunt way to ask in that language. "Tony Stark doesn't just sightsee places that need help. Does it have to do with whatever partnership is going on between you and the Commander? Or is it about officer Langstrom?" Lilian, with Strawberry, allows herself a thin smile. "It is, isn't it? As tacky as the whole western thing is to me, I appreciate people who can all set rules and agree to live by them; especially without a police state breathing down their necks to have to keep it from falling apart every day. I suppose they haven't forgotten their common enemy here; there aren't any walls between them. It feels like they'd be a good fit for the Paladins, doesn't it? This whole region, perhaps. If we can appeal to a common sense of moral decency and the cultural zeitgeist that craves romantic stability and camaraderie, it feels like it should be naturally stable." The Mine, as Strawberry asks, is technically an iron mine, but as these things work, it also pulls up plenty of lead, copper, lodestone, and what she can probably look up as pyrite, alongside mixed silver and gold, which are literally all valuable to an advanced industrial giant, and thus consistently sold off in bulk. It's not a fancy mine, mostly an open pit affair, but after the town recently upgraded to decent power tools, they've turned a tidy profit, and have nearly paid off the steep loan on buying them up front.
Ishirou	Ishirou nods once, "That's...actually rather good thinking. Though letting them accumulate is probably /not/ a great idea. The magic in this world is /strong/ compared to others...like my own," he says tapping his arms and thinking. "Well, I can identify them for you, and from there you can make a choice on rather to work on a way to dispose of it or contain it." A thought, "We could handle that for you, and if you WANT the item after I identify it then obviously it's yours," he looks towards Mack, then back to the Sheriff, "I want to do right by you and yours so.." he shrugs, "I'm still willing to install something where you could hold things until I can come ID them for you." "Better safe than sorry."
Mack	"I make it a personal policy not to turn down a drink when it's offered in friendship," Mack replies, his entire demeanor much more easygoing than it has been for quite a while. His nominally relaxed exterior has always been accompanied by the constant ping of high-fidelity sensors and the expanded awareness of a psychically-empowered consciousness. Now, he's content to rest easy within his own weathered skin and metal-plated head. It makes him look old, though. An unfortunate consequence of what he is. Mack glances between Ishirou and the Sheriff, nodding. "Long as the folks it got taken from aren't gonna be back looking for it, anyway. I think Lilian's subordinates would probably jump at a chance to look at local artifacts. They strike me as the type." He itches at his scrap-scaffolded, too-long neck with a statuesque finger rendered in chrome. "Anyway, I'm no mage; I just got put back together by one. I'll lend you a hand if you need it, though."
Ioanna Langstrom	Ioanna takes the beet, because Ioanna has no fear of food. Ioanna has eaten ant cuisine, haunt cuisine, and all sorts of weirder shit than a peppery beet. She chews on it for a moment, then, "Hm. Not bad." "Yes, I do think we should. I haven't heard anything about it, but it sounds...hmm...for lack of a better term..." She purses her lips. "Proper Noun-y."
Lilian Rook	Tamamo finds that one doctor's office is laid out in very rustic fashion, and given the equipment available, can be construed to be a sort of 'general clinic'. There's a kindly old receptionist and the doctor is the country educated sort it seems, seeing all of two clients in line about minor ills, though with a fairly well-stocked room of genuine medical supplies and roughly 1980s grade equipment. He is all too happy to allow Tamamo to perform her 'ritual', as he calls it, and even stops to ask her what kind of 'magic' she's into. He says something about a recently very high number of minor injuries, and makes small talk. The other office is very different, staffed by one doctor and one nurse slash assistant of another stripe. It's much smaller, seeming to amount to an intensive care room with a whopping six beds and an ER room actually stocked with significantly more advanced equipment wired to its own generator. The doctor there is the kind who is thankful to have to work rarely, and valued very highly for when something serious happens. He apparently comes from 'the burbs' east where he got a much higher education than 'folks out here', even with a different accent. He's a little more skeptical about Tamamo performing blessings, just north of uncomfortable, but bored and liable to make ample chatter and ask her all kinds of questions about the Paladins. Most pointedly, questions about why they need a magical healer out here.
Strawberry Princess	Strawberry gives Ioanna an innocent, earnest smile. Her own tastebuds are not hardened by breadth of experience, but rather by a decade of Struggle Meals. "I'll write up what I know about it. Might be useful." Once she gets the chance, she types out a summary on her phone and uploads it to the appropriate Paladins channels. Big pit mine outside town. Most of their commerce. Iron, copper, silver, gold etc. sold in bulk. Bought power tools & paying them off, nice profit now. Sell raw metal, buy back electronics @ markup. Set up factory here maybe? Keep profits local? After that, she leans against something worth leaning on picturesquely (probably the side of a building), pulls out a pocket knife, and carefully cuts off a bit of cheese to put it on a slice of parsnip like a cracker. Taking a bite, she seems to decide the combination isn't bad, and offers one to Lilian a moment after. (The flavors go together surprisingly well, but the textures aren't quite there.) "They're nice people," Strawberry agrees after chewing thoughtfully for a few seconds. "I think most people are nice, in situations like these. When the problems are outside and not inside. It's kind of what we're built for, right? ... I hope it stays that way. It might change if we're not careful." Another little pause. She awkwardly brushes some hair back behind her ear with beet-juice-stained hands. Then: "You seem relaxed. It's nice. I don't get to see you like that often."
Tony Stark	The near-joviality that Tony approaches bullshitting and light banter wanes in warmth as he's actually called to explain himself, his motions, and why he actually came to the post-Apocalyptic Wilderness Westerlies. He continues with an easy and illustrative breakdown of the specific kind of 'ylves', which is apparently some sort of nonsensical offshoot of multiple-alternate-wash concepts of the same core regional-religions. Syllabic in an understood way. The gods-and-mythos segment of Tony Stark's world had an 'It Just Works!' way about it, and the Multiverse just made it worse. "It could be." He smirks, tiredly. "Wouldn't you rather talk about movies instead?" Fiddling with his cufflinks in an idle conversational posture, Tony looks around the city. "I can make all the resource problems here go away. It would make it a rich target for the local empire, so I'd have to give them more to deflect that, and then they're a world power arbitrarily - because Iron Man walked through town first, before I walked through some other local town." "There's problems here. Some of them might be endemic to the region. I could precision bomb every threat in two hundred miles, and then set up drone patrols with cloaking systems nobody would notice. And when they expanded out to the limit of that fake clear zone, patrolled by 'spirits', I'd have to choose expanding the safety net over turning it off. Maybe they get used to it. Maybe there's a malfunction." "We could waltz in here and, as the Paladins, evaporate every single knot of resistance before these people and set them off to some golden land." "Why them? Becuase we walked into town?" Tony looks at Satsuki with the eyes of a weary man, and wipes his mouth with his palm, sliding it down to stroke his chin and then let it fall, limply. He 'knows the answer that Satsuki wants to hear', and it is kinder to simply give it. "... So I'm working with your Commander to stabilize the area in a... gentle way. You get used to team-ups after a while."
Hellwarming Trio	Today is a good day. It's a lesson they... Well, they probably won't retain a lot of the specifics, but even trying a new thing with a patient enough teacher will certainly be a good story to bring home. Rin's curiosity about the underside of the roof has her poking at it a little, but she doesn't test its damage-proofing capabilities largely out of a fear of accidentally burning the place down and getting in trouble over it. When she thinks nobody's looking by the time they finish, though, she does taste it. Just a little. Utsuho: "The northwest? Isn't that where...?" Rin: "Blech... Huh? Oh. Yeah. That's kind of a weird coincidence." Utsuho, meanwhile, is more interested in checking around the fences. Interdimensional monster damage isn't something she's heard much of or even have a lot of experience in, but that's what gathering information is for: Making other smarter people figure out what it might mean. She checks out the damage while they're working on fixing the fence up but her curiosity soon gets the better of her. Utsuho: "You know... I could probably juice it up if you really need something blasted good." Rin: "Is that a good idea, If it's already good enough, the holes might get even bigger if his gun's too big." Utsuho: "How hard could it be?" Rin: "We never even touched fences until now! Do ya know where these dimensional things're comin' from? We might know a thing or two about reasonin' with 'em!" Utsuho: "Or blowing them up."
Tamamo	Tamamo is used to what she's doing well enough that there isn't any issue with chatting in the meantime. In particular, she's interested in what the patients are there for. She answers the question of 'magic' with, "Oh, much of what I practice was preserved in the Daoist traditions, and others in the Shintoist, though there never was a time I worked closely with the onmyouji, myself." She has to go in and out of the building a few times while taking "measurements," until she marks one place in the yard outside, and a several inside, and hands five small, cloth pouches to the doctor. "Would you pleasure hang these here, and bury this one there? That will hold the blessing in place, so long as there are no major shifts. Ah, but be sure to correctly order them. This arrangement is for both the longevity of the effect and of those who benefit. To perfect the cycle is to avoid stress and waste, and so, to slow the effects of age." Each contains a different talisman, made of wood or metal, with the pouches merely being there as additional, physical protection. At her next destination, she has similar efforts to put forth, even if for a different focus. An emergency room that sees less frequent use should have appropriate blessings, focused on more potently, visibly miraculous effects -- though her strong suit is still in the area of 'luck' or 'fortune,' in making things occur that had only seemed barely possible. Without explaining the details of her ritual choices, it's a similar-looking process. "Oh, but the Rifts are quite dangerous, are they not? There will be such a storm as requires the aid of those like myself, within a span of months, I expect. It will be much more dangerous than the fiend recently defeated, I am sure. I have already seen to the quarters of the encampment, there, and so, I have this opportunity, being within this area to support my fellow Paladins, to extend some of the same effort, in this long-lasting fashion, to you."
Go Shijima	Go crosses his arms, regarding Lilian with warm approval. "I like that idea a lot," he says. "A place that finds stability from camaraderie. I'd fight for it." If it's going to turn out that way... Mack would know where to start. <Tac-Paladins> [4] Tinny: Mack says, "There's not much chance you can make the place perfectly safe, but preventing the worse kinds of predators from moving in is a good start." There are still things that need to be done before this place is the foothold everyone would like it to be--but it's a good feeling, to know what has to be done. After several progress reports come in, Go radios back to Mack, procuring the FiveS car-phone-greeble to tap a few notes out. <Tac-Paladins> [4] Go Shijima says, "Great! It sounds like things are really starting to come together. I've got a list of some of the monsters and other things around here. Well... in my head, anyway. I'll write it down and get it to you, and based on the worst offenders, we can get a grocery list together." Tapping away, his brow furrows in concentration. "No... not 'Simian.' 'Simvan.' There. ...werebeasts, loogaroo?" There are several attempts to spell this one, with little question marks next to each arrangement of characters. "Stalkers..." On the list continues. After a few moments more, Go closes the phone's flip-screen and heads over to find Mack--consequently running into Ishirou and the sheriff in the process. "Oh, uh, howdy," he says embarrassingly to the sheriff, before passing the flip-phone-car-greeble over to Mack. "That's everything I was able to find out from people around town about all the dangers outside. Any of 'em sticking out?"
Lilian Rook	Holden scratches his head at Ishirou's offer, thinks for a bit, and then unconfidently decides "Ain't got no wizards in this town. Not much use keepin' 'em. More dangerous in folks' hands than good." He thinks a little longer. "Tell you what. If you can tell 'em apart, and get a second opinion, I'll pay to take the bad hoodoo off our hands and you can buy the rest if you have a use for it. Sound fair?" He holds out a calloused hand to shake. Once he's concluded that with Ishirou, he gives Mack a big bushy grin, and says "Then let's get a round of the good stuff at Lacy's! First one's on me! They got a Tee-Vee and everything." This apparently means the most 'upscale' saloon in town, which is basically just a modern western-themed gimmick bar with very strong liquor and the boast of being almost up to health code. He adjusts his hat a little trying to parse out what the rest means. "Sorry, but I don't rightly know who that is. Subordinates? You folks military?" The damage to the fence is pretty mundane. Some nasty critter has obviously made an attempt at scratching up the EM-DEE-CEE dumpster, bear locked, out back, for god knows what weird shit the general store throws out after it's expired on-shelves. The owner says some of it comes into town from (very unfortunately) 'Injuns', and not all of it sells to the 'mystic types' that occasionally mosey through. They have no clue what juicing up a fence entails and are politely opposed to fiddling with their gosh darned fence. Lilian beholds Strawberry-given food with deserved apprehension while bracing herself to try it. The look on her face indicates she was expecting a lot worse. After swallowing, she says "Your sense for 'food improv' has gotten better too." with a quiet laugh. "At least, without a microwave involved." Folding her arms and standing around outside staring at the sky, she replies distantly "People are better at being nice when they can agree on what 'nice' is. Even when they just agree that it matters a lot to at least try. A few hundred, a few thousand, all selected for who works well together, raised with this kind of solidarity and community . . . yes, I think so. Human beings weren't meant to be packed in like rats by the millions. We aren't built for totally irreconcilable beliefs and lifestyles to grind together under the veneer of democracy. This place isn't just absent of fighting. It's absent of tension. It's . . . rare?" She huffs a little at Strawberry. "Really? Am I so uncomfortable for even you to be around?" She then princess waves at Go showing up. "That's how it should be. Stability because everything expects something from one another isn't stable. Stability because people are simply shy of conflict is worse. Stability because people think they'll individually profit more if they're . . ." She shakes her head. "Humans are designed to be needed. That's psychological science."
Lilian Rook	Arina and Satsuki watch Tony with rapt attention. Satsuki laughs a little uncomfortably. "I'm sure we wouldn't have to go that far, but if you don't mind my admitting, wanting to walk into town and change things in front of me is why I left-- why I joined the Paladins. Of course, I trust that your idea of gentle isn't so . . . incremental, if the Commander trusts you so much." Arina nods solemnly, resisting the urge to do more than touch her mask nervously. "I don't think it's wrong for someone to get something good just because they were lucky. As long as it doesn't hurt someone else, as long as they didn't do something bad, isn't it better that some people are fortunately helped than nobody? Doing what you can, when you can, and not making excuses . . . that's what I admired about the Immunes. I really respect that you've thought about it this much, e-even if it's a little scary to talk about it like that. But I hope that 'chance' won't stop you. It's fine to just start somewhere. That's what I think." The doctors both have no clue what Tamamo is talking about specifically, though the surgeon at least identifies it as Asian (and, somehow, even does better than Alison Rook by not referring to Tamamo as 'Oriental' in any way). He lights up especially (in a way he thinks is subtle) about the mention of age. Both of them are competent enough in tasks of meticulous order and memory to manage what she asks. Her talk of the rift is nervously well-received, with a hopeful inquest of whether or not the Paladins think they can 'do something about it for good'.
Ishirou	Ishirou looks at the held-out hand and offers his own to try and give the Sheriff a firm grip. Ishirou does not have much in the terms of 'strength' but he tries. He tries very hard! "Alright, I'll work on getting what you have Identified and working with the others." It's true, Mack did say that they had mages who wanted to look at local magical items, so this will be a win-win. If they get anything /too/ dangerous they could just store it off world. When Go shows up, Ishirou gives him a little wave.
Mack	Mack waits for Ishirou to finish up business with Holden before he cuts in. "Sounds like a good time to me. Lead on; I'll keep up." He's doing a little bit of hobbling. Mack's right leg moves like it's stiff, but it doesn't seem to stop him from keeping up with the more long-legged types. He takes the greeble from Go on the way, giving the list a once over. "Let's see..." It takes him a second to go through it, fiddling enough to get used to how the phone-like object works due to the gap between tech bases and prop departments. "Werebeasts and loogaroo are the kind of singular problems that crop up from time to time, but they don't usually necessitate a hunt 'til they make themselves a nuisance. Stalkers... Psi-Stalkers? They're mutants; they specifically scent out and feed on psychics like me. I hear the CS has 'civilized' some of 'em to lead their anti-psi squads, too." "Uhh... hmm. There's Simvan around here?" He glances at Holden for potential confirmation. "They're D-Bees that roam in big tribes. Usually number in the hundreds. They follow herds of game, but they're real fond of humanoid meat for dinner. Real belligerents, too. A Sky-Knight I used to know once told me that the Simvan think they're the only people who truly live in-tune with nature, so they're pretty arrogant and demeaning to outsiders. Still, they'll do some trade, so it's another case of not starting a fight if we don't have to." Mack passes the greeble back. "I think the move is going to be figuring out which of these is just frontier rumor versus tangible reality. Sometimes you have to investigate when you hear about certain things, like vampires, or Xiticix, but most of these might just be campfire stories." He finally addresses the Sheriff again. "I'm not military. I'm just a monster hunter. The Paladins are made up of groups of people who're trying to do good and work together as allies under a certain common set of rules and principles. A fair number of the people who came with us are from actual militaries on other worlds, though. They've got hierarchies; I've got friends who pay my tab and charge my e-clips."
Tony Stark	Tony has the rapt attention of the two chatty Heatherettes, who encourage him in uplifting, understanding, you-can-do-it/better ways. They lay upon him their understandings, and what support they can. He smiles, distant-appreciatively, and nods. "Yep." Agreeing while rolling his shoulders back, Tony scans the town meaningfully, before looking at the girls again. "The local heroing groups are the first points of contact. Giving people the tools to keep helping themselves. What we have, as the Paladins, is extra to help hand out. It's not to enrich, because that's just deciding who gets what of the slush." "That's just politics, and I'm no politician. Sources, not symptoms, and that means talking to groups like that big empire too." He grins, wry. "Seeing as we're just another, bigger threat with high-faluting ideas about the way the world works. Saving people is just step one. Steps two through whatever are the work."
Ioanna Langstrom	"I should take you to some of the restaurants I've been to. I feel like you might enjoy - well, there was this one restaurant in a world that resembled 1910s Earthlike, a speakeasy run by a gentleman named," she says something unpronounceable with some odd fluctuation in her throat. "He served a very particular twist on the quiche using local insects." Yep. That's...that's a palate alright. Then, "Do I seem relaxed? I suppose it's because things are going so well. This is the first time I've ever been in charge of such a project. I was very concerned that things would...become more complicated. But this is more or less going as expected, thanks to all of you." She smiles. It's a very pretty smile. "Thank you all."
Hellwarming Trio	Indeed, the owner's choice of words is very unfortunate. Rather, it'd be fine but wrong for anyone else, but for the youkai... They'll have to get a talking to from Paladins HR once they inevitably repeat his words. With the offer to spruce up the place failing, the pair have little else to do here but to thank the owner for the cool hats and info before they leave with their hard-earned gains. Once outside, they try each other's hats on (black and yellow for Rin, white and green for Utsuho) before trying to find everyone else to regroup and share their findings. They don't have to look all that hard, at least. They see that sizable gathering of all their... Friends? Co-workers, definitely, but how many of them could be considered friends? That's what weighs on Utsuho's mind of all things as she follows Rin over to present their findings. Rin: "We found some cool stuff at the shop!" Utsuho: "The monsters might be coming from 'Injuns' and magic people." Rin: "Oh. That, too. And hats! Ain't they cool?" They might need that HR talk sooner rather than later.
Strawberry Princess	To Ioanna: "Oh, a quiche." This is definitely someone who knows what a 'quiche' is. "With the local insects? Like... with aphid nectar? That kind of thing?" An expression of tenuous, desperate hope. Even she doesn't want to think about the alternative. Strawberry Princess laughs awkwardly at the back-handed compliment to her culinary skills, and rubs the back of her neck in that good-natured way. "Thanks, Lilian. But the parsnips had a lot to do with it. They grow good stuff here, I guess." The explanation of societal tension visibly doesn't sit right with her, but being the agreeable person she is, she only shrugs. "I feel like there's other reasons, too. When it's..." A pause. Frustration, briefly, crosses her face as she struggles with words. "Big people trying to suck little people dry. Instead of being happy to thrive together. That's what does it. You know?" Then, hands up to ward off the misunderstanding: "N-no! That's not what I meant at all!! I just... I mean, you're always so busy. You're the busiest person I know. So it's... nice. Just to see you not being busy with anything much. Makes me feel like you're taking better care of yourself, you know?"
Tamamo	Tamamo is quite familiar, of course, with traditions focused on the pursuit of immortality, as well as with the simple fact that the matter of humans aging involves a steady gain of small problems that can't be adequately healed, and must instead be endured. Even if she doesn't suffer that, herself, she's familiar with the perspectives of the old versus that of the young. There's little difference, then, between providing the best healing, and in keeping folks 'young.' Not for most, at least. If there's no specific plague to be cured from a land, then that's the best sort of gift she can offer. She explains at least half of that in a reasonably understandable way, with a minimum of literary allusions, and a very politely, mildly worded instruction to focus on enabling the natural healing of patients, if one is interested in achieving that long life. She doesn't quite explain that her blessings work best in revitalizing what's already present, and that that's why. The question of the storm, she says, "We have some designs in mind, but whether they shall be in time for this storm, I should say 'no.' Still, there is much expertise available, and I do believe we shall find some method as will resolve the matter much more safely than has been done. At the least, we may see that the storm's runoff is directed, and that the greater dangers shall not leave the area of the nexus."
Ioanna Langstrom	"The nectar and the insects themselves. Very good. A unique crunch and oozy taste baked into the bread." She purses her lips. "It's delicious. I'll take you sometime." There's a moment where she listens to Strawberry before she nods. "I suppose I am too...military...when I'm around the Paladins. It's old habit. I still haven't accepted that I'm here, with people like you, let alone giving you instructions and orders. It's..." "..." "...well, alien." She laughs. "We make sure to finish our takeout every morning," she says, "Ogawa-san and I are very good about that. And I'm very proper when it comes to maintaining a clean apartment." "Occasionally I think he married me just to spend his time in an apartment that isn't a miserable pile of chaos and immaturity. If you had ever seen that girl Muramasa spends all his time with, and seen her apartment...well, you'd probably forgive him." She fiddles with the OC. "...thank you." She seems almost bashful. It's such a weird thing to see from this woman.
Go Shijima	Offering a friendly nod and smile to Ishirou, Go falls in at the rear of the procession so as not to bump into anyone in his work. He resumes tapping notes into the FiveS once Mack's had a chance to look it over. Each entry gets clarification based on Mack's input. "If I've learned anything from working here, it's that I can be a pretty good scout. It shouldn't be a big deal to ride out and take a look for myself--or fly out, if need be." Leaning over as Mack clarifies for the sheriff, Go pipes in helpfully. "Just consider me an ally of justice." He looks up at the sign for the approaching Lacy's. "...this place looks..." Almost up to health code. "Well, it's no big deal. There were places like it in Arizona, too." Once in the establishment proper, he doesn't start on a drink until he's had a chance to finish tapping out the last of Mack's input--and any from the sheriff. "It sounds like however rude they are, and... however their tastes, um, differ from ours... these Simvan guys can be nice, or at least, not wildly dangerous, under the right circumstances." His brow furrows with concern. "Of course... if they venerate nature..." How would they react to a bigger, more developed Boothill? "What does that look like? Do we know?"
Lilian Rook	Holden's polite insistence on 'second opinions' doesn't seem to stem from any distrust of Ishirou, but simply the fact that he'd staked some of his budget on it, as a sort of matter of manhood and civility. He gives Ishirou the keys to the evidence vault (really, it's just a safe) and trusts the single security camera to babysit for him. The removal rate he offers is fair, and the price he suggests for anything Ishirou might want to keep is low. He's not really looking to turn more than drinking money off of it, just to give Ishirou a fair run of removing that 'hoodoo' from his office. What Ishirou discovers is largely a collection of baubles and fetishes of largely native american cultural derivative appearance, a couple of slightly unnerving ornaments that would look at home Día de los Muertos setup, numerous herbal concoctions, and what looks like a handgun made of pistons and wires and small gems. Most of them could readily invoke minor magic without much training or background. One is obviously a magic gun. Some of the concoctions are poisonous. Both Mexican-style items radiate a certain amount of dark magic and are probably best to be rid of. If he wants someone to come back him up, Arina will respond quickly to join him. Holden nods to Mack on the subject of Simvan. "Not all that common, but they're a sight braver than desperados on these roads. Your average bandito has a healthy fear of bein' shot in the head by his fellow man. The kind of Simvan we get here are all nasty types. I hear there's more civilized kinds out northwest, but they ain't shown their hides 'round here." He laughs at the mention of vampires. "Not a prayer! The rangers done see to that! Might find a feral way out in the woods if the Devil himself is callin' your name, but not no way otherwise. Not this far north." He ponders Mack's explanation by stroking his mustache for a while. "Right odd for military types to join up with anyone else. Normally like to keep to themselves, don't they? Chain of command and all. Feel free to consider Boothill your friends about those two things though! Hahaha!" A pause. "More womenfolk in that military though. Young ones too. Times like these . . ." Said two womenfolk with Tony are apparently entirely content to just soak up what he has to say for a little while longer. Satsuki especially breathes a subtle sigh of relief that his takeaway is 'not a politician'. Arina doesn't seem to quite get it, but nods enthusiastically about 'sources not symptoms'. "It's hard, to not do the very best, the very most, you can. Even when it's better that you don't. Because . . . how much is 'I should have done more?', but 'how much will I regret?' is there too. That's why I think it's . . . important to decide what it's supposed to look like, if you completely succeed, and do your best like that. Then you have people you can trust will handle all the other things that you didn't. Using everything you have, but, deciding 'what am I really responsible for?', and it's not 'every good and bad thing that happens to people'." She looks exhausted just from trying to convey the thought, and half-pulls her mask to the point it blocks one eye as a nervous habit. "The one thing you can never go wrong with is eliminating evil. Even if everything else is too complicated, or too unfair, nobody should be killed by monsters just for living their lives. Even if we can't help in any other way, everyone will appreciate you just for that. People are better at solving their problems without monsters trying to eat them. That . . ." Satsuki snaps her fingers a couple of times. It looks like something she picked up recently. "Ranking of needs. Safety, then necessities, then communities. Politics is just the messiest side effect of people trying to actualize themselves. You can't really just decide it for them and expect them all to be happy."
Lilian Rook	'Big people trying to suck little people dry'. Just hearing it gets Lilian to make a Face. She reflexively bristles up; fingertips dig in and bunch up her upper sleeves. Then all the tension bleeds back out in a sort of disappointed exhalation, coming from somewhere of all-too recent reminiscence. "People who believe everyone deserves the same, people who believe each deserves what they've put in, and people who believe they deserve everything everyone makes; wouldn't you call those different, incompatible beliefs? The kind that you can't just push together and 'let them sort it out with a vote'. No matter what is in vogue at the time, some people aren't happy with what they have, or with what other people have." "That kind of thing comes from nobody being able to agree --nobody important even being interested in agreeing-- on a basis of what greater good that distribution is even supposed to serve. It's . . ." she uncomfortably considers how to continue to phrase this gut feeling in a simple enough way. " . . . something I've begun to notice. That not all 'big people' are really interested in what role they serve. Sometimes there's simply no point to it. The way they sort things is simply ideological vanity. A few people people have everything and everyone else has nothing simply because of a difference in fundamental beliefs about what constitutes 'deserving' something." Bitterly, she adds, "Sometimes, it can even be that everyone has everything, except for someone who has nothing." "So I'd like to think of it as a matter of compatibility. I think that people who want what's best overall shouldn't be forced to coexist with people who simply want to arrange what everyone else gets into the configuration they like best. I don't see anyone here doing the latter. Nobody is interested in it. That's a sort of 'code' too." She abruptly laughs off the hasty reassurance, though it doesn't sound forced or fake. "Sadly, my self-care 'break' is a little bit externally enforced. I'm working on it." She adds "It's . . . not bad, though. But it's difficult to figure out what to do with myself sometimes. I really don't know how people just sit around and do nothing but think." The doctors concluding their business with Tamamo give her many 'bless you' and 'bless your heart' derivatives, both very happy about the Paladins' commitment to dealing with the Rift. The way they instantly lock onto it with laser-guided goodwill speaks immediately to a deeper sense of pervasive, extreme mislike of rifts by everyone. Just that vague promise is enough to turn any attitude right around. They aren't particular about the specifics of how she plans to do it, but both equally keen to launch into tales of all the horrible things they've heard of crawling out of them, and all the most unfortunate things to happen to the town just from being vaguely proximal to one. Actively policing one is a Big Deal. She is told, however, 'Be careful if the cavalry, or worse, the skulls show poke their heads in. Y'all don't want to come off like you're 'consorting with evil' you know? Not with those folks.' The caravan finishes up business and leaves Ioanna with the parting information that they're heading out to 'Silvereno', being essentially relayed to her as the biggest independent settlement in the entire region. Their route came directly from 'the Baronies' that are very close to the northwest, being the closest thing to a real nation here (of mundane humans anyways), described loosely as a powerful and influential union of settlements large enough that they dare call them 'cities', in terms of equal fondness for their 'high tech' eccentricity and wealth, and warning vibes about some kind of unrest and scandal potentially boiling up to conflict there. The head tradesman gives her his schedule and enough useful info to mark on a map, and heads out.