Scene #8769: Price of Progress: Gold Rush

Owner	Pose
Aidan Proudpick	Hey there, young'un. Now, now, I get to call everyone young'un. Sit, pardner. Beans are just about done, I got a little bit of whiskey to warm your belly. It's a good night to sit by the fire and warm a spell. Beans gotta cook a bit longer, so lemme spin you a yarn while you wait. See, you ain't from around here. It ain't hard to tell. People... people is people. A cynical feller will tell you that people just want what they want, hang the rest. That ain't true. Twere always just one feller. Or a group of fellers. But theys willing to create fear. And turn people against each other. Rile them up. So long as they get what they want. Now, bear with me. This is a story about some squirrels. The old signal continues. ... --- ... / ... --- ... / ... . -. -.. / .--. .- .-.. .- -.. .. -. / .... . .-.. .--. / ... - --- .--. / -... .-. . .- -.-. .... / - --- / -- ..- .-.. - .. ...- . .-. ... . / ... - --- .--. / ... . -. -.. / .... . .-.. .--. / ... - --- .--. / ... --- ... / ... --- ... California, 1884. A hastily erected sign creaks in the dusty breeze. The painted letters on it read 'Two O ks. Fo d and Supp ies Befor The Gr at Maze.' Mountains stretch out on the horizon, white snow draped along them like a powdered sugar on a cake. Maybe you've seen a gold rush town, a western movie, a fanciful picture, maybe you ain't. Hastily erected buildings line a few central boulevards, stores and saloons and inns crowding for space, not a lick of paint on em. Paint's expensive. It looks more like a dried tinder box, ready to light aflame at the second it were touched by a match. People mosy up and down the street, carriages and horses filling up space what the people don't. It's a messy mucky road, ain't no one bother to clean up the horse apples, you know. Guns're common round these parts. Maybe not for the reason a western movie might make you think. Sitting a spell could be fun. Taking in the local saloons. Listen to the pi-an-oh play as men squabble over maps and cards, jaw about the Great Maze. As for those brochures and catalogues you've been getting, the ones in the mail, on desks. A fine little leaflet that shows weapons powered by fine clean burning ghost rock, horse vehicles, weapons that can fire a tremendous amount of bullets, armored dusters. But let me direct yer eyes to the second street. Where a carriage stands. The side of the carriage is open, a table laid out in front of it. Bottles of tinctures lie out on the table. They got all three types a gun, pistol and rifle and shotgun. Ain't no smith and wessons here though. Catalogs, like the time delivered to yer home, sit on the table, order forms a ready to go. The marquee on the carriage states: 'Hellstromme Industries: Terrific Tonics And Fiercesome Firearms.' The man behind it wears a find cabbage tree hat, a fine white button down shit, suspenders. A bristling moustache adorn his upper lip. People wander up and down the street, occassionally stopped to sift through the belonging. People on their way further west could always use a good gun. Among those people standing, close to the table and conversing with the salesman, two tall folks stand. Something off about them. It might be the boots that don't sit right on their feet. The way their sarapes bulge out that back like they smuggling some kind of backpack. The way their stetsons twer pulled low. Maybe the way both of them twer red squirrels. Or perhaps, the glowing blue lines on two of their possessions, a bow and a set of gauntlets.
Sarracenia	Sitting a spell in this dusty, run down town would not be fun for a princess wearing a fancy dress. Sure, she wears it everywhere and it has been through a lot, but she never actually wants it to get dirty. Still, she did pop into the saloon for just a bit, and was drawn into a game of cards. After losing enough to probably buy this town, she heads back out to the streets. She approaches the Hellstromme wagon next, looking over the brochure as she walks. She stops at the table and looks over the items for sale, then at the man in the fine hat. "Excuse me. I am Princess Sarracenia Sundew. I am following a call for help that came out of this area. Rumor has it that entering this area was a doomed venture until recently. Would you happen to know anything about it?" The princess notices the two squirrels. She blinks in surprise. "Oh! Do you know an Aidan? He is a squirrel I know who is aspiring to be a knight!" She doesn't really realize the implications of asking unknown squirrels such a thing.
Corona Arclite	Time to see what's up with this weird warp gate, distress signals and mysterious cataloges and what not. Though the other side of the gate is less... unusual than one might of expected. "Well, reckon iffen Ah didn't know better Ah'd swear Ah was back on Brimsteel. Though this be a bit more... on the rundown end of things. Lodestar's a bit more advanced." That said Corona probably stands out the least, as far as appearances go. If you ignore the obvious fox tail and ears that peg her as an 'not from these parts' sorts. The vixen pauses a moment to glance down at her arm device, fiddling with the controls a little. "Still can't get a fix on a source, gonna have to keep explorin' farther." A hissy sound emits from the metallic pack on her back, and Corona shakes her head as she speaks over her shoulder. "Usin' ye for a booster antennae ain't gonna work if we ain't closer to it, 'rabbit ears' pun not withstandin." Once she isn't focusing on that it doesn't take long for the gadgeteer gunslinger to notice the carriage stall set up down one of the streets. Corona starts ambling that way, squinting at the marquee as she approaches, and pulling out one of the brochures that had turned up at her workshop out to look out. "It's the same name a'right..." Already two peculiar fellers at the stall as well as the general comin' and goin'. The salesmen is given another wary glance, it's hard to tell an honest dealer from a snakeoil rapscallion much of the time, and she probably shouldn't trust him farther than she can see that moustache from... But her curiousity towards these 'Fiercesome Firearms' and 'ghost rock' is going to override her suspicions to a degree. She gives a polite tip of the brim of her stetson, but doesn't impend farther than the general crowd until she can get a closer look at what's on the table. Other people are already directly speaking to folks, she can do her thing over here, being analytical.
Odette Raskins	If not for the label saying that a certain letter was CRITICAL MAIL, Odette would have never given the brochure a second glance. If not for some weird new guy in a mask insisting on it actually being important, Odette would have never known about the existence of this newly uncovered area. If not for the styling of the brochure reminding her so much of home, Odette would have never come all the way out here. And yet, all those things come together to bring her here, dressed in her Company-representing best: A blue jacket and skirt combo with a matching cap, both bearing the white cross indicating that she's some kind of medical personnel! There's no need to hide her presence today, after all, so she just heads on over to that particular carriage while adjusting the strap of her duffel bag across her shoulder. Perhaps wisely, she keeps her physical distance from everyone, giving the taller pair a wide berth and only raising an eyebrow at whatever's on their backs before turning to look at the stuff on the table. "H-hi there! Um. What's so terrific about these tonics and things, anyway? " Might as well start with something easy. Give a chance to do the spiel, then see where she can divert towards the SOS once there's an opportunity. "And those firearms... H-how's that compare to others that we could find around here?" She's trying quite hard not to look at the bow and gauntlets, but not doing a great job of avoiding it.
Madeleine Cadrasteia	Madeleine doesn't usually go chasing distress signals, especially not ones asking for Paladins. But where there's an SOS, there's often room for a paycheck, and Madeleine's been lacking for both funds and excitement lately. So here she is, in some dusty low-tech nowhere town, waiting in a saloon for the supposed trouble to show itself. The huntress is trying to blend in a little, with an outfit best described as 'gothic bounty hunter chic'. Leather trousers, corset and duster, deerskin gloves, heavy boots. All in black, of course. A longspear would stand out too much, so Drogrung is in the form of a bow, leaning against the wall next to Madeleine's seat in the corner. She's in the spot that in a film would usually be reserved for the mysterious stranger and she's doing her best to look the part, acting disinterested in the goings-on around her while keeping a close eye on the street. It seems she's not the only Elite here, but she's choosing to lie low for the moment and seems to have largely avoided notice by the other offworlders. A certain princess was even in the same saloon, briefly, to lose her pocket change at a poker table that's clearly crooked. But, hey, if it's the only game in town...
Aidan Proudpick	Sarracenia The saloon is relatively mixed gender, though there's a mighty lean towards men. Still, women ain't afraid of wearing pants these days and putting on a gun belt. "Well, we got a real southern belle, here." "Now, men, be nice, everyone's welcome to the table." "Hogtie me and call me a steer, is that new money?" "Deal her in, boys, how's a shot of whiskey do for you, ma'am?" After a few hands, Sarracenia seems to be the life of the party. Everyone in the saloon is drinking fresh by the time she leaves to cheers. Corona Signals is hard to pick up here. There ain't a lick of electricity in the entire place. Whereever that signal came from, it ain't directly HERE. In this spot. But there's something else. It's energy alright. Magic? Radioactive? It ain't natural, that's fer sure. A new typa reading. Nothing able to set the sun to exploding, just new. Madeleine A man sitting under a porch to snooze the day away looks up, tilting his hat up with one finger. Women heading out of a general store slow to a whisper. The bartender, a skinny man, older gentleman, sun tanned skin and a finger missing. He ain't quite sold on Sarracenia but he seems to be eying Madeleine Cadrastia. He moves over close to her, setting a small shot of rye whiskey down in front of her so he can lean over and whisper. "You an Elite? What faction are ya?" Back At The Wagon "Signal?" His smile ain't quite gormless, but he clearly ain't sure about any signal. "Sorry madam, I don't know what you are talking about. I'm a salesman. Hellstromme Industries' Marvels!" He cracks his arm around like a whip, pointing at Odette. "Glad you asked!" With a flick of his wrist, he produces a small iron rod, pointing at a wooden box, like the one you might find at a pharmacy, a cough medicine show, or a snake oil salesman. Those labels are mighty impressive, eye catching little delights on bottles about the size of an apple, plugged up with a cork. "Now, what we got here are Hellstromme's Patented Ghostrock Tonics. Perfect for the gunslinger out looking for trouble." He's got that cadence down pat, quick and practiced. "Having trouble shooting enough bullets? Take a drink of Hellstromme Haste and you'll be cracking lead with the best of them. Need to take a beating? Good ol American Armor right here will let you take a punch of the biggest circus strong man without a flinch! We got all kinds!" He points the rod over to Odette again. "Glad you asked! We got the most advanced Ghoststeel weapons. They cost a pretty penny, but," he hefts a calvary saber, pulling it from the sheath. With a flick, he cuts through a nearby wooden mug, which slices quite easily instead of smashing." He leans forward on the table, giving Odette a big ol wink, "You seem like a discerning type." He pulls out a key from around his neck and opens up a box nestled in the back of the wagon. Out comes a six barreled pistol, like outta some painted picture. "I got one fresh out of the factory Gatling Pistol, courtesy of Hellstrome Industries. Of course, if that don't tickle your fancy, we got all sorts of Ghostrock tools! The wonder rock!" "Do know an Aidan? He is a squirrel I know who is aspiring to be a knight!" Immediately, both heads turn towards Sarracenia. It ain't easy to tell animals apart by gender, but the burlier of the two makes it easier, starting to speak. They are not quite as tall as Aidan, though the man is broader of chest and as a voice to match. The gauntlet wielder. "The bast-oof." The other squirrel elbows him savagely. Feminine, rapier thin, the bow wielder. "We know of him. Did you think all squirrels know each other?" She raises her eyebrows immediately at Sarracenia, daring her to question further, then immediately move on. "We are representives of the Gale Empire, of House Stoutoak, we've been sent out to help. I am Ash. This is my brother, Oak." She casts a glare back at him and Oak makes a show of courtly bowing.
Madeleine Cadrasteia	Madeleine keeps her voice low when she answers the bartender. "Concord. Not here on company business, though. I'm surprised you know the factions, this place doesn't seem like it gets many offworlders." She takes the shot of whiskey and drinks. "Not many before today, at least. I'm sure folks have been talking about those of us who aren't so good at blending in." She nods toward the street outside, where Sarracenia, Corona, Odette, and two Gale Knights are all gathered in one spot. The huntress gives the bartender a friendly smile, the sort you give when you're trying to convince someone they're being let in on a special secret. "Do you know what's brought us all here? Besides that Hellstromme salesman I'm not sure what need this place has for my like."
Corona Arclite	Corona Arclite lets out a long whistle as the Gatling Pistol is pulled out of the box. "Now that's an impressive piece of iron. Not that Ah need a new shootin' sidearm," She shifts her stance a little to lean on one side of the table, and the holster slung from her built holding one of her oversized custom handguns is visible, "but can still appreciate a fine bit of creative craftmanship. But tell us more 'bout this 'ghostrock'." She gestures across the table with her other hand. "Iffen ya use it in both medicine and munitions Ah reckon must be some pretty potent stuff." It's both getting more information about this realm, and mad scientific curiousity. In part because she's starting to see some parallels to what she's use to dealing with back on her Weird Western In Space home on the range.
Sarracenia	People liking her is a rare treat, and Sarracenia despite all appearances is actually quite generous! "Southern belle? Well, ah do declare~" "Um...well I suppose you are a steer! I shall not hogtie you, though. It would be rather uncouth for a princess." "Whiskey? I am not familiar with that. Is it good?" The resulting shot leaves the princess coughing a bit. "Oh my goodness! That is like fire!" she says, but doesn't seem put off by it. She's a princess with more of a warrior's heart after all. Since everyone is in such good spirits when she is heading out, Sarracenia does what any well off hero would do when leaving a rundown saloon. "One more round for the house! On me~" she calls to the barkeeper, and tosses a gold coin as large as her hand to pay for it. She assumes that will be enough and heads out without checking, and gives her copper hair a toss as she goes. 'The bast-oof.' 'We know of him. Did you think all squirrels know each other?' 'We are representives of the Gale Empire, of House Stoutoak, we've been sent out to help. I am Ash. This is my brother, Oak.' At the wagon, Sarracenia finds that the squirrels do know Aidan! Or at least know of him. And are not friends of his. When her faux pas is pointed out, Sarracenia looks like a deer in the headlights for a few moments. "W-what? I...um...ehehehe..." She stammers a bit, theough coughs lightly into a velvet gloved hand and tries to just move on. Right into another. "Ash and Oak? What cute names f-..." She blinks, then blushes lightly and looks off to the side for a few moments. She looks back to them after a few moments and coughs again. "Erm...the Gale Empire, hm? I see. Well, I am Princess Sarracenia Sundew, Crown Princess of the Sundew Kingdom." She curtseys regally and smiles. "I am also here to help! But, so far I have found little to go on." Odette and Corona actually ask about the products, and Sarra looks them over again. "Hmm...do you have anything bigger? I prefer explosives or cannons. All of my guns fire bullets as big as a person. Or bigger." she says, then hmms. "What is it that makes Ghostrock so special? Where does it come from?"
Odette Raskins	He doesn't know, either? That's a shame. Still, Odette did ask the man for his sales pitch, so it'd be rude to walk away now! Besides, it's not like she isn't interested in seeing whatever he's shilling, although she's fairly certain none of it is going to be worth buying. Those cute little bottles, though. That sick saber cut. That goofy-looking gun. She wants all of it, but how's she supposed to afford all that on her salary?! She doesn't let that show, of course, as she instead hides the disappointment with her awe at his description of the tonics, the demonstration of the saber, and the plain old look of that funky pistol. "That's some really impressive stuff, mister... What about something that's good about dealing with..." She strokes her chin lightly as she keeps eyeing those tonics, eventually taking out her PDA to check her account balance on that with a few rapid taps (and also bring up a translation of that SOS). "Do you have anything for breaches? Like if there's a hole in a ship or whatever that's huge." Hearing what the squirrel pair says to Sarracenia, meanwhile, has Odette glancing over in both vague concern and also sucking in air through her teeth at the squirrel question. She'll need a moment to figure out what to ask them (if anything), but focuses her attention on the salesman for now. "... Also, how much for that American Armor stuff? That sounds like it could be useful for some.. Um." She purposely avoids looking over at the gathering around the squirrel.
Aidan Proudpick	Madeleine He looks at Madeleine, pushing out every drop of menace and meaning into the words. "It ain't supposed ta." He pulls out a small electronic device. Hard to describe, maybe like one of those keyfobs? It ain't even fancy, looks more like something ya might get at a dollar store. He thumbs the button with a dirty nailed finger. "Concord? Alright. That ain't good. I hope you got yer head on straight." He keeps his voice low, as if saying the next words might cause the entire bar ta burst into flames. "Special Services Agent is coming. He'll tell ya what you need to know. And only what you need to know. This world ain't like others." He eyes Madeleine up and down again. "Fear makes the monsters here." Back At The Wagon "Iffen ya use it in both medicine and munitions Ah reckon must be some pretty potent stuff." "What is it that makes Ghostrock so special? Where does it come from?" "Of course! Clean burning Ghost Rock, the miracle stone! Burns hotter than coal, makes a steel more powerful than any forge, it can change a body powerfully in the right hands. Everyone crazy to get to the Great Maze and dig up as much as they can. Ever since the coast sunk! It does all sorts of things. Why, Hellstromme himself made great automatons with the stuff. There ain't nothing it can't do!" "Do you have anything for breaches? Like if there's a hole in a ship or whatever that's huge." The salesman, being the slippery devil he is, presses on, "Of course! I can order out the finest ghoststeel plates from the factory just for you. Or, if you got the money, Hellstrome builds a mighty fine Air Carriage, no need to go through that pesky water." He pulls out box, carefully stuffed with straw, and pulls out an adding machine. "Now, we just started taking credits, so that's one hundred dollars for the American Armor or..." A number of mechanical cranks and whirrs issue from the machine until he pulls out a tiny sheet of paper. "Thirty two thousand credits." "Hmm...do you have anything bigger? I prefer explosives or cannons. All of my guns fire bullets as big as a person. Or bigger." "Of course. My, beautiful AND looking for power, you are a mighty woman. I can order you a 45 Gatling Gun and gyro mount fresh from the factory. Or, if you need to REALLY make sure someone gets shot, we got a Steam Powered Self Rotating Gatling Gun. Sometimes, it isn't about the size of the bullets, it's the quantity! Now, I can also order you as much dynamite as you like, but I don't carry it myself." "Erm...the Gale Empire, hm? I see. Well, I am Princess Sarracenia Sundew, Crown Princess of the Sundew Kingdom." Both bow deeply, respectfully. Oak curls his lip at the 'cute' remark, but Ash has a perfect mask of professional coolness, so she speaks up. "Princess Sarracenia, my apologies. I did not know you are royalty. Forgive my brother, we've been waiting out in this heat for a signal. The man at the public house doesn't like us to enter. We thought we would just explore the native technology." She shrugs a shoulder. Now, you'd reckon an agent always rides up in disguise. Blend in, not draw any attention. But at the other edge of town, a large riding horse stamps through, riding hell for leather. Carts and people rush out of the way from the man with skin like ebony on the back of the horse, dressed in a black suit, black riding duster, black pants, white shirt, and a fancy bolo tie. He sweeps off the side of the horse with a bit o grace and hitches up his horse. He sticks his head through the swinging doors of the bar. "Bartender," well educated, but deep, "I need the backroom. I got some friends who came I need to talk to." Sticking his head back out the door, he turns towards the other five people who don't fit in, sticking his fingers into his mouth to do a sharp harsh cattle whistle. He points directly at them, then into the bar.
Madeleine Cadrasteia	As the bartender voices his disapproval of Madeleine's faction status, she narrows her eyes but says nothing. Her reaction to the pager is similarly measured, though a keen eye would see a hint of surprise on her face. The Special Services Agent makes his presence known, and Madeleine stands to follow him to the back room, Drogrung held casually in one hand. "So," she says once everyone's inside. "Strange place you've got here. Mind explaining what this 'Special Services' is? Did you send the SOS?"
Corona Arclite	Vulpine ears swivel forward as the salesman goes through his explaination shpeal. It doesn't give any more specific scientific details on Ghostrock but that's to be expected. The general details on how it's used and where people are trying to find it are important. It could be this world's Gold Rush or Oil Boom if enough people can manage to do so. Definitely sounds like they diversify in using Ghostrock much the same way as her world does Pulsarium, both as a heat/energy source and a refinement material... though Corona has never tried making medicines out of it. Not sure if that's an oversight or a good thing. Maybe she'll consider it. The whistle gets her attention. She uprights herself, and reachs over to grab one of the pamplets on the table. Probably the same as what she got sent somehow before, but it keeps up the appearance of this being new information. Then another proper polite tip of her hat to the man, as well as a snicker as he goes right into a pitch of Get More Gun to the Princess. "Much obligued pardner. Will keep in mind iffen Ah gotta gear up for an expedition of m'own." Then she scoots back from the table and turns to amble towards the saloon the whistle and the gesturing figure came from.
Odette Raskins	"Ghoststeel... Right!" Odette repeats after the salesman quietly, chuckling after a moment and fighting the urge to roll her eyes. "Is that just a name for the metal, or...?" She asks in that vaguely humoring way, clearly the type of person that doesn't sound like she believes in the that specific kind of supernatural. It's the price tag for the tincture that gets her the lock up briefly, though, staring at the paper in disbelief about the price, then the salesman, then the price tag again. "Thirty tw...? That's more than half a year's..." So much for picking up a souvenir. Sighing dejectedly, she hands the tag back just in time to hear a shrill whistling noise from the bar. It takes her a moment to realize that the stranger is calling for her and everyone else, but it certainly beats loitering around the salesman awkwardly while knowing she won't be able to afford any of his stuff. Odette gives the salesman a brief curtsy, then adjusts her hold on the duffel bag again to hurry to the bar and see what's going on there. Also, to order some food, preferably with meat in it. She's not NOT going to get something to eat while she's here.
Sarracenia	Sarracenia listens to the salesman's attempt at meeting her demands, but shakes her head. "No. Small calibur bullets do not explode powerfully enough." .45 is small caliber? "But, if you have some dynamite I will take a few to see if this Ghost Rock is as powerful as you claim." She pauses as she hears the difference in credits to dollars and peers at the salesman. "I find it unlikely the conversion rate is so unbalanced. If that is the case, I will simply have to wait for the price to drop due to lack of demand. It is a shame, though. I could have bought the dynamite and Miss Odette's armor." She tsks and shakes her head in dramatic fasion. "If your prices or the conversion rate improve, let me know." The apology from Ash gets a headshake from Sarra. "No apology needed. It is terrible to be denied access to an area for no good reason. Here." She reaches into her satchel and pulls out a couple cans of apple soda, which she hands to the squirrel siblings. She doesn't seem insulted by the brother's words. The galloping horse draws Sarra's attention, and she looks over curiously. Once it has passed she steps out onto the main road again. Although she wasn't angry with the squirrel, the cattle whistle to get their attention leaves her with a deadpan expression. "Somewhat rude." she says, then looks toward Corona and Odette. "What do you two think? Suspicious or in a hurry or both?" she asks, then makes her way back into the saloon and joins Madeleine with the mysterious rider in black. Upone seeing Madeleine she blinks in surprise and smiles. "Ah, Miss Cadrasteia! Nice to see you!" she says, then looks to the rider. "So...are you the one who is finally going to tell us what is going on?"
Aidan Proudpick	"Thirty tw...? That's more than half a year's..." "Of course, Madam! The highest protection is worth any cost!" Oh, it's the gold rush all right. People going out mining for the stuff from all over. As fer the brochure, each little booklet gives prices and items, but you might'n have to come back here to pick it up. Ain't knowing if Hellstromme delivers to the multiverse yet. "No apology needed. It is terrible to be denied access to an area for no good reason. Here." Both squirrels accept the soda, waiting until Sarracenia is in front of them to follow. Surely for no reason. There is a vague murmur of distate from behind her. "Strange place you've got here. Mind explaining what this 'Special Services' is? Did you send the SOS?" The room is about what you expect from a backroom, except the door a sort of mattress or sumthin on it. As soon as everyone is in, the Agent locks it and shuts the door. There's a simple table, worn, and chairs, also worn. It ain't a fancy meeting room. But this ain't a fancy place. The man sticks his head back out of the door, pointing at a man just minding his own business. "You." The cowboy jerks up. "Go down to the hostel. Get me a pot of soup and some apples from Missus Meyers." The man starts to complain, but he gets a bag of silver dollars thrown into his chest. Jeremiah slams the door again. "Alright. I'll tell you as much as it's safe for you to know. I'm Jeremiah Reading, Special Services Agent. We are in charge of everything weird. Which includes," he nods his head to the group around him, "The Multiverse. It's our job to know about your groups, your technology, your powers. And it is also our job to keep everything here from going out into the Multiverse. The fact that you are here and you heard the signal is the problem. When we unified, it was strict quarantine." He pulls out a number of small badges. "More of you then I thought there would be." He tosses the badges onto the table. "I'd like to deputize you as US Marshalls to reinstate the quarantine."
Odette Raskins	"What do you two think? Suspicious or in a hurry or both?" Odette scrunches her face up briefly in thought, then taps her fingers against her chin. "I'll have to go with... In a hurry. Anyone looking to do suspicious stuff wouldn't make it that obvious unless they're really confident in getting the job done themselves. And then..." A pause, as she looks over at Corona, then back at Sarracenia. "Then he wouldn't even need us here if he thought he could handle it himself. On the way through the bar, Odette continues to be a bit of a tourist. She's seen the Ancient Cowboy Western scenario before in her shows, but seeing it up close is another matter entirely. She doesn't seem to approve of the smell, though, so that keeps her from getting too star-struck by the time everyone's led into the backroom. "N.. Nice to meet you, Mister Jeremiah. Odette Raskins, Company EMT." She introduces herself with another brief curtsy, letting out an intrigued noise when he describes his own/Special Services' role. "So that's what that breach message was about... It was only supposed to be within.. Um. Select channels, I guess." Nodding slowly, she adjusts her cap and eventually just takes it off after remembering that some places just have that as an unspoken rule of etiquette. She raises an eyebrow at the badge pile, then looks back up at Jeremiah while taking one. "Marshalls? Like... F-for closing that breach back up? Er. What would that..." She gets a little distracted looking over the badge. "What would that even involve? I-I mean, I know that you need a lot of metal to fix a breach, but... That's not what you mean here, is it?"
Madeleine Cadrasteia	"Deputies, huh?" Madeleine does her best to look only half-interested, but she keeps sneaking glances at the pile of badges. "And what sort of work does keeping this place locked down entail, exactly? Far as I know there's no going back after you've Unified, so is this mostly about keeping your world off the grid?"
Corona Arclite	One the door is shut and locked Corona lets out a soft grunt as she stretchs. "Good, finally, ya can get off muh back." She's not talking to anyone in the group. It's meant literally as her metallic pack drops to the floor with a thunk, and proceeds to unfold limbs and a rabbit-like head with antlers as her sidekick shifts back to its normal automatron mode. "Iffen we're gonna keep doing the backpack thing Ah gotta reforge yer frame with a lighter alloy mix." She grabs one of the worn chairs, giving it a jostle to figure out which leg is shorter than the others, because one always is. It's one of the rear legs this time, so she just sits and leans it back against the corner. Putting her boots up on the table would be rude, but Hopalong positions himself to serve as a footrest, as well as a guard animal though that hopefully won't be necessary. This time she removes her stetson fully to tip it to Jeremiah, as a lawman deserves that extra bit of respect. "Corona Arclite. And that be Hopalong." She gestures at the robo-jackalope with the hat before setting it in her lap. "Quar'tine, huh? Thin's like this ghostrock? Seems like it'd be sumethin' mighty.... volatile." She watches as the badges are tossed across the table. But doesn't reach for anything yet. Instead she flicks open the pamplet. Another glance of the sort of things they'd be wanting to keep locked down. "Y'all can't close a warpgate, miss," she answers Madeleine. "Just restrict who and what goes through it. Think like a border patrol on a metaphysical level. Between worlds instead of countries." Her tail twitchs a few times as it drapes off the side of her chair. "So Ah'd assume the quar'tine is as much to keep too much Multiverse from comin' in as well as keepin' yer stuff leakin' out, rawht? So when those signals got and previous investigations managed to get in and then disappeared, yer bosses are pro'ly got their bridles in a bunch over i'all."
Sarracenia	The sounds of distaste behind her get Sarra to look over her shoulder. "Not your flavor? I have others! Lemonade, grapefruit...oh, I probably have water somewhere, but water is so boring." she says. The salesman apparently doesn't try to change her mind, so Sarra continues on to the back room. She seems surprised to hear that there is such a strict quarantine. "I suppose it isn't unheard of, but why do you need to quarantine yourselves from the Multiverse? It is usually quite advantageous." she says, then curtseys to the agent. "Princess Sarracenia Sundew, at your service Agent Reading." The badges are tossed out, and Sarra's eyes sparkle like a child's. She quickly takes one and pins it to her chest, then stands tall with her hands on her hips proudly despite the questions she just asked. Then she looks questioningly at the others for not taking one yet.
Aidan Proudpick	"Ash Stoutoak." "Oak Stoutoak." The two squirrels make use of their time to pull out various animal parts to keep them from being stuck, pushing out two bushy tails. "What would that even involve? I-I mean, I know that you need a lot of metal to fix a breach, but... That's not what you mean here, is it?" "And what sort of work does keeping this place locked down entail, exactly?" To Madeleine, he nods. "I might have the parlance incorrect. At first, we just scooped up everyone who came from a warpgate and sent them to prison. After a couple of tries, we started working with the local tribes. With them and the help of some good Priests, we've been able to keep the warpgate plugged up. Nothing gets in. And more importantly, nothing gets out." Jeremiah spreads his hands out on the table like he's trying to keep it from flying off. Calloused hands that have seen a bit of work. "Quarantine." "Just restrict who and what goes through it. Far as I know there's no going back after you've Unified, so is this mostly about keeping your world off the grid?" He points at finger at Corona, "Yes, Miss Arclite." He stands back up. "There's an old Navajo creature. I only learned this second hand, no Navajo would ever talk about it. And you will never ask about it. But there's a creature. And if you call its name, it can come to you. And kill you. So the Navajo refuse to talk about it. So that people will never hear about it. Because fear makes it real. Fear makes it powerful. Maybe you have a creature or a story like that?" Jeremiah's voice grows quiet, "This entire country is like that. And it wants to get out. Imagine if some Concord member comes in here and makes a deal with the devil for power. Imagine someone with your level of powers starts a fight, scaring everyone half to death. Suddenly, we got wendigos. And those wendigos kill people, scaring more people to death. The policy of the United States has always been and has to be isolation."
Madeleine Cadrasteia	"You'll find, Mr Jeremiah, that the multiverse doesn't all work the same way. Something that's only alive because of some thing or some force that's here won't be able to live long elsewhere. Do you think you're the first world to Unify with dangerous natural laws?" Madeleine folds her arms. "That said, I'd be willing to help confirm that to be the case, I'd just need a closer look at some of these monsters. Monsters which, you don't have to worry, I will not be afraid of." "That said, you're right to worry about folks coming from offworld to stir up trouble. The way I see things, that's going to happen eventually whether or not you try to plug up the gate. Which is why it's worth learning how to deal with them sooner, rather than later. Maybe even accept the Concord's protection. We're not a nation but we do protect worlds that are useful to us. And it sounds like," she nods in the direction of outside, where the Hellstromme salesman is, "you've got some folks just itching to make themselves useful."
Odette Raskins	"At first, we just scooped up everyone who came from a warp gate and sent them to prison. After a couple of tries, we started working with the local tribes. With them and the help of some good Priests, we've been able to keep the warp gate plugged up. Nothing gets in. And more importantly, nothing gets out." "Quarantine." That certainly doesn't inspire confidence in Odette, if the utterly blank stare on her face is any indication. "I-I see. That's.. Um. That's a lot to take in, for sure. Especially if the people living here don't know where to start. Ehm." She replies, the misgivings clear as day as she fidgets uncomfortably in her seat. "Do you.. Um. Does Special Services expect that to last forever? I-I mean, even medical quarantines can be hard enough to keep up for a a few days, and that's with everyone knowing it's going on. Keeping a whole world like this one locked up for..." She waves a hand vaguely. "Weeks? Months? Years? And doing it without anyone noticing? That might just..." Odette purses her lips as she nods in slow agreement with Madeleine, only pausing when she mentions the Concord's protection. She peers at the badge more closely, then shakes her head quickly and smacks the sides of her face. "A-anyway. Um. Sorry! Got a little sidetracked there. What's the plan, then? Finding more warp gates and locking them up, or... D-did you have a bigger blanket strategy in mind?"
Corona Arclite	Corona Arclite can sympathize with the squirrel duo when it comes to busy tails and not trying to stand out. Though she usually doesn't bother, partially because containing her long fennec ears would severely handicap herself. "Thin's like that," she replies to Jeremiah. "Imagine the Leviathan, but it's a giant burrowin' quake causin' sidewinder 'stead of a storm causin' sea serpent. The Wyld Hunt is a spectral posse ridin' a locomotive straight outta hell... Other things Ah ain't gonna go into detail fer much the same reason yer indigin'ous folk don't wanna speak 'bout theirs." She's said enough to make it clear she understands what he's trying to imply. All it would take is one wrong event or greedy warmonger to turn into an endless spiral of terror. "It ain't gonna be the big factions you gotta worry 'bout... Even the Concord an' the Watch got rules. it's the individuals that don't respect no rules at all y'gotta worry 'bout." She lowers her boots from Hopalong's back, sitting up on the chair. "Yeah, well, just lockin' folks up mighta been a stopgap, but y'see how it just got more notice it's gotten when folks noticed no one was returnin. Mighta soothed a sympton, but did li'l fer the cause." She leans over to toss two of the Hellstromme Industries pamphlets on the table, one from the carriage stall, and the one that was sent to her. "An' ye already got locals somehow pokin' their fingers out, too." Then grabs one of the badges off the table before settling back in the rickety chair. "Regardless of whose and whats and hows, sounds like this matter is one best dealt with 'fore one of those scenerios can get worse. But it's gonna take a proper solution, not just thrown unfamiliar faces in the clinker."
Sarracenia	As the seriousness of the situation becomes clear, Sarra's mostly cheerful attitude fades. She finally takes a seat and folds her hands in her lap. She is quiet for a bit as the others seem to have better points than she does. Words said to her at her dance party yesterday swirl in her head. That she's worthless and will never be great. She puts on her best serious face. After listening for a bit, she finally says, "What about the fear of those people you are kidnapping? And what about their lives? Imprisoning people who didn't know any better isn't a good solution. We should trigger the creature in a controlled location and get -it- quarantined. My suggestion would be to take advantage of your contact with the Multiverse to break this stalemate with these creatures. Eliminate the fear by striking those that prey on it down." Madeleine and Corona tell about their credentials, and Sarra adds in, "I do not have much experience with fighting this kind of monster, but I can bring plenty of firepower and resources.
Aidan Proudpick	"You'll find, Mr Jeremiah, that the multiverse doesn't all work the same way." Jeremiah looks skeptical. "We'll take all the data you can give." At the suggestion of the Concord, his face goes to stone. "Maybe if you work with us longer, I'll tell you why. But we can't do that. Suffice it to say, knowledge is given out slowly. For good reason. Especially in the Multiverse. Here, we have some element of control. If everyone swoops in without us having some kind of plan? This entire country turns into a wasteland. And maybe they start somewhere else." "A-anyway. Um. Sorry! Got a little sidetracked there. What's the plan, then? Finding more warp gates and locking them up, or... D-did you have a bigger blanket strategy in mind?" "No. But we can't put the genie back into the bottle. The Agency will re-assess our position and come up with a new plan." "An' ye already got locals somehow pokin' their fingers out, too." Jeremiah points at Corona again. "Thank you, Miss Arclite. You should be a Ranger. You are quite good at it. We have a situation here. Some bandits start harrassing the Chumash tribe, keeping them from sealing the local warpgate. And those bandits are holding up the Ghostrock shipment. And we can't mobilize anyone because we got an issue with zombies in Nevada. Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to go and rendezvous with the local Chumash shaman. Her name is Kipomo. She'll know if anything supernatural is happening. Deal with the bandits, the rangers get their shipment of ghostrock. If you can figure out what Hellstromme Industries wants along the way, do it." "In return, the United States will pay you each the sum of sixty dollars, and the Agency will be in your debt. Not a thing you should take lightly." "Eliminate the fear by striking those that prey on it down." Ash speaks up, politely, "Princess, this is not just something you can hero away." Jeremiah nods. "Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't. The problem isn't all the people. The problem is, it only took one person. ONE person with a goal to do all this. One person was pushed to damn this entire country. One person opened Pandora's Box. And there's a lot of people out there who would do anything to fulfill their goals." The bartender opens the door, passing in a pot of beef jerky stew and some apples. The squirrels grimace, each taking an apple. Jeremiah continues. "But, if you can come up with ideas to help us unify, I will gladly pass them along. And if you don't want to accept this mission, I can wipe your memory of this and go on your way. I expected you to all take the mission, but not be so eager to set us on the right path. The United States won't forget this." "Eat up. You can ride out tomorrow." "Oh, yea, and-" He points at Corona and the Stoutoaks. "You are from the jungles of Africa." He points at the others, "If anyone gives you any weird looks, just say you are Chinese. It won't get you any friends, but people will accept that."
Odette Raskins	Listening to Jeremiah speaking further, Odette still doesn't feel quite as confident about Jeremiah's and the Special Service's plan as she did a few minutes ago. It takes until he gives a more concrete plan of action regarding the bandits that she finally has some idea of where to proceed, however slightly. "Talk to a shaman, stop some guys from stealing stuff, and... Um. Hellstromme? You mean the same company as...?" She glances towards the entrance. "That guy selling the stuff before? Huh. I guess it'd make sense, if they're as big as he said they were." "In return, the United States will pay you each the sum of sixty dollars . . ." At first, that doesn't sound like a lot. Once Odette recalls how much that drink cost, it... Still doesn't sound like a lot for what's being asked. Still, it might be a good intel opportunity and to lay down some stakes for the Watch, so... She'll have to play along for now. "Mm. Mm. That's... O-okay, yeah. That's.. Okay." She's not keen about the rest of what they're doing, but for that kind of payday? She can't not do it. "If anyone gives you any weird looks, just say you are Chinese." Odette checks her PDA again for that one. A moment later, she bites her lip and turns away slowly. On on one hand, she doesn't know if she can really pull that level of racism off. On the other hand, a new place to establish contacts in, and for maybe... What, a week? Two weeks? Decisions, decisions.
Corona Arclite	Corona Arclite smirks a little. "One my pardners back home issa Ranger, Ah learned a thin' or two from him." She picks up her hat and places it on her head. "Gotcha. African. Picked up the local dialect to try and not sound outta place. Easier than tryin' to explain where Ah'm really from, anyways." The choice amuses her, as normal fennec foxes are from Africa, just the desert rather than the jungle. But no one here is going to know that difference. She sits back in her chair. Bartender is bringing in food so there's no reason to run off just yet. Instead she fiddles with her armband device a bit. Probably making more notes for herself. "All it takes is one, yup. It's stopping the landslide that follows..." She flicks the cover over the device screen shut. "But sounds like most these problems are linked so stompin' out one will work towards the others as well."
Sarracenia	'Princess, this is not just something you can hero away.' Sarracenia mmphs in annoyance. "There is no problem that you cannot 'hero' away. You just need the right method. Unfortunately, my hero speeches are not quite up to par yet, so heroic fighting is what I offer first." Jeremiah at least seems open to the possibility of heroing, but brings up one person with a goal. Sarra hmms. "One person with a goal is quite common in the Multiverse. The Concord is practically built on that sentiment. If one person with a goal could doom this country, several people with a goal can undo it and help prevent it from happening again." The stew and apples are brought in. The squirrels take the apples. Sarracenia frowns lightly. "...rude..." she says very quietly. Which is still probably loud enough to be heard by those with animal ears in the room, though she might not realize it. The stew...Sarracenia isn't used to such frontier food. She's had stew, but jerky stew? She's a spoiled rich girl. "Ah...thank you. But, you need not worry about feeding me or paying me. I am a hero princess." She reaches into her satchel, rummages around a bit, then pulls out...some premade sushi in one of those plastic packages, complete with chopsticks. She pops it open, then blinks. "Chinese? Where is Chine?" she asks before popping a sushi round into her mouth. She doesn't live on earth, and even in Pipeland geography is not her strong suit. She doesn't seem to have a problem with the deception, though. Corona is told she should be a ranger, and Sarracenia stuffs another sushi round into her mouth with a sort of pouting jealous face. Stupid capable people making her look bad all the time.