The message comes by carrier pigeon actually, which is a pretty weird way to deliver a message but of course, it's thematic. A very pretty looking brown pigeon swoops down out of the sky to wherever Milla just so happens to be that afternoon and holds out its leg. The message is short and simple:
Got a job for you. Meet me at the farm at dusk. No show, no job. Keep it a secret, rewarded very well.
- Hal
P.S. Burn this.
And that's it. Of course, if Milla chooses to listen to the message, she will find the Sheriff at the farm at dusk, chewing a piece of tobacco and watching the sun set. She'll be greeted with a tip of his hat and one word:
"Bounty."
And then he holds out a small notebook. Looks like Milla's been chosen for one of those roles that were mentioned. Good luck.
[this time, Milla doesn't ask the Sheriff to meet her at the farm. she goes to his place directly, on the second floor of the station, and knocks on his door until he answers. this is also probably after she watched him burn down the post office and be melancholy over over the place]
The Sheriff opens his door and he is perfectly dressed, so no worries there. He just blinks at her for a moment before shrugging and beckoning inside. ]
I was just making some tea. You're welcome to join me, I suppose.
[ It's incredible cozy, actually. A small little apartment -- kitchenette, bedroom off to the side, dining nook, lounge area. That sort. The dining table has a laptop on it, close right now. The couch has a blanket throw over the back and Cream Soda snoozes on a throw pillow. The bedroom is open a crack and Milla can see an unmade bed and some rugs. Most of the furniture is old and rustic, made out of wood and there are rugs thrown here and there and it's just. Nice and warm.
In the kitchen, the Sheriff pulls out another old mug from his cabinet to sit it next to his and on the stove, a creaky little teapot boils on the equally worn out stove. It's quaint. ]
[. . . nice and warm was not what she expected, but she does suppose it makes sense. despite her urge to wander and poke around, she remains a polite guest and follows the Sheriff into the kitchen]
Both, please. But not too much, as I only like my tea slightly sweet.
[and this is the second time she's been taken off guard in this conversation, although she also feels a small spark of. . . relief]
How can you-- [no, of course he knows, he always knows, doesn't he? and she doubts he'd spoil the ending for her. so instead, she shakes her head and just exhales deeply]
I suppose my thoughts on that are far different than yours. I'm glad.
[ The pot finally starts to whistle and the Sheriff begins to serve them, pouring water and milk and sugar into mugs and letting things steep. As he works, he'll talk. ]
Ain't what you think. Game is over, means I'm about to get a reboot -- which is fine, for the record. I don't have any regard for the wipes either way. I just don't like being shelved so long. It always gets boring after a while till the next one is run. I have nothing to do in the meantime other than a complete system shut down. Thus, a bit melancholy.
[he's only confirming her suspicions, so she isn't quite as surprised as she might have been some six weeks ago. still, the way her brow furrows is evidence enough of her displeasure]
How does that work, precisely? If there is only one person left, and that final survivor wins the game, then how would they enter the train?
Why make the winner die in order to go home? After all, presumably they would have fought very hard to stay alive. Is it all for the sake of your employer's "entertainment?"
No. At that point, it's not about the game. Once the final decision is cast, my employers ain't got any investment. It's about a safe travel home and that can only happen once they're on the train. Ain't any other way to get on it.
You couldn't have at least come up with an exception for the winner? It seems. . . unnecessary, to make death the only means of boarding the train home.
I once explained how the train works to you. A vessel of sorts.
I suppose it's unfortunate [ Though it's clear the Sheriff doesn't actually mean it ] but there's no other way to contain them and move them elsewhere.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sheriffexe) wrote2017-01-13 11:11 am
WEEK SEVEN
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Sheriff! Are you home?
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The Sheriff opens his door and he is perfectly dressed, so no worries there. He just blinks at her for a moment before shrugging and beckoning inside. ]
I was just making some tea. You're welcome to join me, I suppose.
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Ah-- actually, I would like to join you. Thank you for the offer.
[and then she steps inside and not-so-discreetly looks around 'cause she's never been in here before]
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In the kitchen, the Sheriff pulls out another old mug from his cabinet to sit it next to his and on the stove, a creaky little teapot boils on the equally worn out stove. It's quaint. ]
Milk and sugar?
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Both, please. But not too much, as I only like my tea slightly sweet.
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You got it. Just waiting for the water now. Is there something you want?
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Answers, as usual. I noticed you seemed quite. . . melancholy, earlier today. Why is that?
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[and this is the second time she's been taken off guard in this conversation, although she also feels a small spark of. . . relief]
How can you-- [no, of course he knows, he always knows, doesn't he? and she doubts he'd spoil the ending for her. so instead, she shakes her head and just exhales deeply]
I suppose my thoughts on that are far different than yours. I'm glad.
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Ain't what you think. Game is over, means I'm about to get a reboot -- which is fine, for the record. I don't have any regard for the wipes either way. I just don't like being shelved so long. It always gets boring after a while till the next one is run. I have nothing to do in the meantime other than a complete system shut down. Thus, a bit melancholy.
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You're not allowed to take a vacation? Travel the universes, see the sights?
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Where would I go? Ain't got a purpose to it. Might as well wait. I can deal with a bit of restlessness.
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[if he doesn't mind it, then she supposes she shouldn't feel too bad for him. especially not after everything that's happened]
Hn. If you say so.
I also wanted to ask you about the train. It's been running ever since Ao and Tiara died. Is there a reason for that? And where is it going?
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. . . I see.
Does that mean we all have to die? Or is there another way to enter the train?
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[he's only confirming her suspicions, so she isn't quite as surprised as she might have been some six weeks ago. still, the way her brow furrows is evidence enough of her displeasure]
How does that work, precisely? If there is only one person left, and that final survivor wins the game, then how would they enter the train?
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Why make the winner die in order to go home? After all, presumably they would have fought very hard to stay alive. Is it all for the sake of your employer's "entertainment?"
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You couldn't have at least come up with an exception for the winner? It seems. . . unnecessary, to make death the only means of boarding the train home.
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I suppose it's unfortunate [ Though it's clear the Sheriff doesn't actually mean it ] but there's no other way to contain them and move them elsewhere.
It's usually a quick death, at least.
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