open mingle - bust the moves, old timer!

[traumaticus]

Who: Adults [citation needed] of Aldrip!
Where: The Tavern
What: A night out for the senior grown up folks of the chosen
Warnings: I'd say pretty much what you'd expect from a set-up like this! Please be sure to mark any potential warnings on the comment subjects!



**Ok, it says adults of the Aldrip. But icly there is really no one to keep an eye on this. So, if a rebellious or unassuming teen wishes to sneak in to smuggle out a beer and/or listen to old ppl talk about how things were good back in their days then they're welcomed :D




Sometime around the first week of the November there are fliers and posters posted around the Aldrip, welcoming the population of The Chosen to enjoy a night out at the tavern attached to the inn. There's some mention about the place changing the ownership from native citizen to one of the chosen, but that's not important! Not when there is also mention of the food, drink and the games! So yes. Come all!

The atmosphere at the tavern itself is warm and welcoming. The electric lights have turned dim so that they don't overthrow the candles that are burning on each table, creating a cozy and warm ambient lighting around the guest area. Those who've visited the establishment before, perhaps during their own stay, might notice that the decor of the place has barely been changed -- aside from the white roses that are the centerpiece of each decoration placed on the wall.

The staff at the tavern has been instructed to serve the chosen all night. While they might not like it, they still follow through the orders without much of a protest (that is unless someone were to provoke them), bringing them food and drinks as promised. If someone were to ask what's on the menu they'll simply answer something along the words "the big bird", whatever that means. As for drinks? Unfortunately, the selection is not the most vast or spread out, containing mostly just beer, wine, whiskey, simple cocktails. Though, if someone wants the real good stuff they can always ask the barkeeper what's under the counter.

As for the activities? There's a dart board placed on one of the walls, and there are cards & dice available if one wishes to partake to some lighthearted gambling. There's even a jenga with a little dares and questions written on the blocks. While there's no karaoke-set in the place this time, there is a live band who will take requests and leave the mic open for those who have the urge to bust out to a song!


Now everyone! Remember to be in your best behavior.

Comments

[melnik]

[ Although he is listening to what Root has to say, Shaw manages to offer up one of the few distractions compelling enough to pull his attention away—and with the special interest in it that only a fellow weapons enthusiast could portray while holding their gun in his direction. It's a pre-war weapon, which is natural for people who know nothing of that war, but that makes them especially fascinating to Miller, who holds his tongue long enough to look to Root rather than outright interrupting her.

And then she starts grabbing for a weapon, too, and he feels he has no choice but to oblige. ]

Is that a German import? Semi-auto?

[ He produces a .44 revolver from under his sweater, holding it out towards Shaw. The look of it isn't much of anything like your typical Magnum. It looks like it was scrapped together from various weapons' components and whatever else was needed for the job, complete with Tritium-illuminated rear sights. ]

I haven't seen weapons like yours in quite some time... Many people here are not familiar with firearms at all, or better yet, seem to have no need for them.

[cactusy]

[Sorry, Root - tech talk has been completely derailed.]

A custom piece.

[Shaw says, approvingly; it's ramshackle, yes, but in a way that clearly shows that the maker knew what they were doing. Fancy paid-for custom jobs are cool too, but in a sleek, polished way that's less interesting than this is. This weapon tells a story: both of its user, and its place of origin. People with a lot of options don't tend to use weapons like this, and being able to work with limited resources is an impressive skill.

She'll take it in her hands, if he lets her, and will hand her own gun (a Beretta Nano with a laser aim add-on) over for inspection as well.

[computation]

[ That's fine with her as long as no one complains later when she tells them what to do. Now's the time to ask questions, not in the middle of the crisis, so if they don't want to ask questions now that's on them.

Plus, Root also likes guns. She leans over Shaw to look at Miller's weapon with obvious interest. ]

Yup, mine's a Glock 19, pretty standard. Shaw's the one with the fancy Nano. What are you doing with a custom .44? Blasting holes in walls?

[ She doesn't actually know much about Miller, she realizes, since he isn't the most forthcoming on the network. And Root always likes hoarding information about others. ]

[melnik]

[ He accepts the switch, taking a closer look at Shaw's beretta. It's such a small piece that it fits easily in the palm of his hand, but it's clear it would be a mistake to underestimate it based on size alone. European imports were not uncommon in Russia before the war, but the chance of coming upon something like either of their weapons nowadays would be nearly impossible. The parts were long used to make frankensteins when their use ran out.

Speaking of which, ]

That's about all that it's good for here, don't you think? At least until you identify those kneecaps for me. Pre-made, fully functioning arms are not easy to come by back where I came from. I am privileged to employ the best of the best in weapons modifications.

[cactusy]

I like him.

[Shaw announces, his gun still in her hands as she turns to Root.]

You've got good taste in friends. Or at least good taste in one friend.

[The jury's still out on the rest.]

[computation]

[ Root rolls her eyes and elbows Shaw, neither of which is discreet. ]

You just like anyone who has a gun you haven't seen before.

[ She turns back to Miller, not about to give up her nosy prodding so easily. ]

What would you normally be doing with it? Why the need for modifications? Come on, it's a party -- tell me about yourself. [ She flutters her eyelashes a little in what is clearly a joke but only a hair's breadth away from being a believable ploy. ]

[melnik]

[ Root's sarcastic quip may well be true, but that's a good enough reason where Miller is concerned. He smirks at Shaw, whose remark is perhaps the saving grace in allowing this conversation to remain lighthearted banter as Root presses further. ]

Like I said, we hardly have a surplus of parts to choose from. We're just making do. But okay— [How should he put this? ] —it's for fighting mutants. I don't know what the year is for you back home, but where I am concerned, July of 2013 is the anniversary of Armageddon. A worldwide exchange of nuclear missiles. That was over twenty years ago and the radiation has transformed the surface of the earth.

[ It's really a long fucking story. ]

My people live in the metro, underground, but those who are physically able will go to the surface to collect resources. That is my job.

[cactusy]

And we thought our world was crap.

[Shaw mutters under her breath. They're a couple years that particular apocalypse point, and so in theory they're talking about parallel universes here. But all the same, she can't help but ask:]

Any chance those nukes were influenced or controlled by a rogue AI?

[computation]

Our world's not crap, [ Root scolds her immediately, ] and not everything is about A.I. Crazy coming from me, I know. Human beings are perfectly capable of causing worldwide nuclear destruction all on their own.

[ Not that she knows this is the case for Miller, but it seems like a safe assumption given his lack of familiarity with how A.I. operate.

Swinging back to Miller, she comments, ] No wonder you were ready to coordinate the reset teams. That's a dicey job. Are you talking about the Moscow Metro? I've been there before.

[ His accent is thick enough that it's an obvious follow-up question, and if with nuclear war it would make sense. The Moscow Metro is also a fairly memorable place between the elaborate décor and the ludicrously deep subterranean stations in some places. She could see it as a bunker easily. ]

[melnik]

Moscow, yes.

[ There is a somber element to his voice that slips in at the thought of freely traveling there, at remembering the metro in the same condition that it used to be. Though no need to ask how Root guessed. He knows the way his voice sounds and the assumptions may follow suit from there. ]

This was the conclusion of a long conflict between the CIS and NATO. There is no doubt it was the work of humans.

[ And he would know. After all, he had the privilege of foresight to get to safety with his family that only an insider would have... ]

You two are Americans, right? What is it you were doing there?

[cactusy]

[It occurs to Shaw - though more out of curiosity than actual worry - that there might be some hard feelings here, or at the very least awkwardness. If his home was destroyed by a CIS-NATO conflict, and he's from a CIS country clarifying that she and Root are from a NATO country...

It doesn't change her response in any way, but it sits at the back of her mind.]

Freelance work.

[She says, briefly cutting her eyes to Root. She'll leave it up to her how much she wants to share about the Machine.]

Crimefighting on the mean streets of New York City.

[computation]

[ Root is not curious or worried, but then, she's never formally aligned herself with a government in her life. Nuclear fallout as the conclusion of a CIS and NATO conflict makes complete sense, and she's both not the type to offer sympathy and senses Miller is not the type to want to receive it. ]

Yup-- American. I'm a globe-trotting assassin, [ she puts in casually, ] or I used to be. Lately I do whatever my rogue A.I. overlord tells me to do.

[ She's told him some about the Machine already; it rapidly became pointless to keep it a secret when she arrived to imminent A.I. breakdown.

And she knows it's going to auto-translate but she still says something brightly in Russian, assuming Miller will hear the difference in her mediocre accent. ] Привет, какой путь к метро? [ Hello, which way to the Metro? ]

[melnik]

[ It could be a bit awkward were these two interested in actually delving into the history of that conflict, but Miller suspects they aren't. It is as inconsequential as anything else when they can all remain assured that their worlds, although they sound like they might, don't actually align with each other. After all, he was quite hesitant to at first, but even he has cast aside a good deal of inherent bias for Westerners since arriving here.

Crimefighting or committing crimes on behalf of the harbinger of singularity though? That's interesting. ]

No kidding.

[ Unfortunately he loses the opportunity to ask more when the next words come out of Root's mouth. It never occurred to him that he could tell when someone was trying to speak Russian to him until now, even if it's only in these specific circumstances. ]

What the hell! [ "чёрт побери!" ] I bet it would really have come in handy to have this skill when blending into the setting of your next mission.

[ The auto-translation skill, that is. He is probably just testing it himself when he adds, in shaky, intentional English rather than the translated kind, ]

Hey. Let us get a drink. [ He's heard enough. ]

[cactusy]

[Root gets a look of complete bafflement from Shaw, but when Miller joins in, she's able to deduce what's up.]

Wait.

[In Farsi - or, that is, in Farsi from her perspective and no one else's - she says:]

Does this mean I can't speak Farsi anymore?

[It's not like she makes a habit of it in her day to day life, but still; it's the principle of the thing.]

[computation]

You can, we'll just all be hearing it as our native language, [ Root says cheerfully. ] It looks like a bad dub.

[ Pretty funny in this context, honestly. Root steps away with a light slap on Shaw's shoulder. ]

I'll get us the drinks, you guys pick a table.

[melnik]

[ Leave it to Root to make him think too hard about the mechanics of how this place works. It's total whiplash from the nostalgia to speak with someone in his own mother tongue to the very lamentable reality that they aren't even granted a luxury as small as that.

Miller puts an exasperated hand to his face, and as Root walks off to buy the drinks, he extends Shaw's gun back towards her. ]

Sooner or later, I think there's going to be nothing of us left. We just become part of this simulation.

[ He's simultaneously looking idly around the room and gestures to a table in one of the far corners. ]

Alright... How about there?

[cactusy]

Thousand fathers.

[Shaw mutters to Root's departing back - and considering the fact that she doesn't normally accidentally slip into Farsi to curse, this is definitely a deliberate attempt that's being translated a little too literally. She heads off towards the table that Miller has picked out, continuing over her shoulder:]

Don't let her hear that theory; she'd love it.

[Grumble, grumble, grumble. A smidge reluctantly, she adds:]

She doesn't think of it as us losing ourselves, though.

[computation]

[ Root is over the other side of the tavern, sweet-talking the bartender...

Yes, she wants a whole bottle of vodka. No, not flavored, she actually does love Shaw. ]

[melnik]

[ Yep, sounds like a language specific curse if he ever heard one. But the sentiment, at least, is shared. It also isn't really any point of pride that this woman who seems to know Root quite well has confirmed his read of the situation. He sighs as they make their way over to the table, turning back once to glance at her making eyes at the bartender. ]

I gathered that. I can't say I'm any expert on the subject, but she has quite an idealistic approach to artificial intelligence. I started calling the AI "her" just to make it easier to communicate.

[ He stops to pull out his chair. ]

Are you also acquainted with this "overlord" of hers?

I'M SORRY i missed this notif

[cactusy]

[Shaw pauses before answering - not because she's hesitant to talk about it, but because she doesn't even know where to begin. Her relationship with the Machine isn't anywhere near as deep or complex as Root's is, but it's gone on for longer, and it's taken on a wider variety of forms.]

I guess you could say that.

[Is what she finally lands on: even when she's uncertain, she's always succinct.]

She was, uh-- heavily involved in a couple of my past jobs. And after Root died--

[Her brow knits into a faint frown.]

I dealt with her more directly after that. Just for a couple weeks, though.

ALL GOOD

[melnik]

[ Wait a second. She's supposed to be dead as well? It's really starting to become a running theme to discover this about people here, to the point that his internal deliberation on whether any of them are actually alive is starting to get hard to ignore. ]

And then what? You arrived here? She said that she thought her boss was the one responsible for bringing her here, like she was put here to fulfill some directive. I admit, I almost believed it at first — it seemed almost too convenient that we'd need to help an artificial intelligence and then some expert on them showed up out of the blue.

...But is that actually possible if she'd already died in service of this boss?

[ He's not just trying to dismantle her claims or anything; he'd really like to know what Shaw thinks. ]

[cactusy]

It might be.

If the Machine saved some sort of electronic backup of her brainwaves; if the Machine put her into a simulation at or just before the moment of her death. It does all seem too convenient, and Shaw is skeptical herself - but she doesn't think it's impossible.]

How much has she told you about this boss of ours?

[melnik]

[ Well, damn. Good to know, but not very informative just yet. ]

Not much. Just that she's an AI that wants to help people and she follows her bidding. I'd be interested to hear more.

[cactusy]

[It's a perfectly normal question, Shaw reminds herself. There are a lot of computer and sci-fi nerds out there in the world, and any one of them would be interested in the Machine if they heard about it.

Unfortunately, it's also the sort of thing that their enemies are very interested in, and a corner of her hindbrain is busy insisting It's a trick, you're in a simulation, this is Samaritan and Decima trying to get intel from you.]

Why?

[She asks, hunching in on herself defensively.]

[melnik]

[ It's easy to see that she's hesitant to discuss it further, but that doesn't particularly dissuade Miller any given that he has nothing to hide. ]

I don't know, it seems pretty relevant to our situation, doesn't it?

[ And he says "I don't know," but clearly he does know. It's just a bit of stating the obvious. ]