White Rabbit; Tourism

Some strange looking figures approached where all the commotion was, drawn by the spectacle coming to spectate it, knowing it had to be something good if it stirred up that much riffraff around the virtually dead world. "Whatcha got there?" someone who approached asked, looking somewhat haggard and gruff. There was some genuine interest in what was going on.

Some Valparaiso Denizens accumulated.

"Mighty fine establishment ya got there," the Valparaiso Denizen of interest said to the Tourist. "You're new around here, ain'tcha?" He turned and called his friends over, and the Valparaiso Denizens in the distance started coming closer slowly. "So, what's this you're talking about? Naughty house, is it?" There was whispering heard in the background. "Yeaaaaah, I could always use one of them." Some people nodded in agreement. "Since you're talking about work and whatnot, I know me and my buddies might be looking for a job. We've recently been run out of town and were wandering around the streets." Most of them were living in the slums, back alleys and whatever there was that wasn't a house. "If you're looking for stuff, you should try those robots that ran us out. They're working the streets now and pick up everything." The Valparaiso Denizens pulled out their pockets from their pants, which were dry. "Ain't got nothing for ya, pally."

The Tourist ends up telling the Valparaiso Denizens that they can work for her in her 'Shop' that she wants to open, of which they believe is or will be a 'Naughty House'. The Valparaiso Denizens were happy to hear that they'd gotten themselves some form of work and all, but they were concerned about how and what their compensation was going to be. "We ain't gonna work for free, ya know." Someone coughed, then extended a hand. "What are you gonna give us if we're going to work for you?"

Quote :

The White Rabbit suddenly rose from the ground in front of everyone's sight, seeming to be regenerating itself naturally. There was a bright aura that shine around it and kept it suspended midair whilst it did so.

Without any actual concrete evidence about whether or not the Valparaiso Denizens were going to get any instantaneous security through exchange, they were lost about if they should actually do the work or not. In fact, many of them started to go home... if they had a home to go to. Packed up, saddled out into the outskirts of Rue. They weren't working for nothing. They threw their hands dismissively as they walked off on their way.

(Depart)

The others that remained who had hope for themselves and the future remained, stuffing their pockets back into their pants and all gathering each other up to confer among themselves. It all sounded good; like this person were considering long-term employment and guaranteed labor. That certainly meant revenue and residence, at least they presumed, but none of that was concrete before their eyes. However, they were still interested in the offer. So, a representative among them was sent out to the Foreigner that was setting up the new establishment.

Out in the barren lands of Rue, it was like a desert. There were no establishments outside of the actual city that was in the middle of the desolation; the Central City and only city of Valparaiso, at all. The residents of the land were either wanderers or machines, at this point.

I. Despite all of the desolation, there were actually tons of resources all around, but spread out among the desolation at variable distances both far and near.

II. There was a shop relatively nearby that seemed to have some supplies.

III. There was a great deal of activity heard within the city that was within visibility of the group in the wastelands at the time. None of what was going on could be seen legibly, but audibly garbled in noise, it could be told from a distance that there was life stirring.

The Valparaiso Denizens did not know where any resources were. Many of them were out searching the wasteland for things, themselves, from people who died out in the field and no longer had use for their possessions, whatever that may have been. Those that did happen to come up on such generally either took the identity of the one that was claimed or simply took all of their possessions and didn't intend to come back and share with anyone else. It was a tragic process but one that ended up the same way each time. Just like the people that just now left the ones that remained where they were, there were those before who had done the exact same thing in groups of variable sizes. Valparaiso Denizens of different clan, creed, gang, affiliation and organization were actually sprawling all over Rue and weren't just condensed to the Central City, which was just the only establishment that was notable.

The only sort of resources they were certain about came from the actual city of Valhalla, itself, which they used to live off of and within. Anything outside of that was widely unknown. "Sorry," they said, "we can't help ya with that." The only thing that could be done was to go out into the outskirts and look for whatever happened to be around.

As for their work, however, they were actually eager to know where and what they were supposed to be doing in order to help. "What can we do for you?" The remainder of them were now servants as long as they were going to be provided for all of the aforementioned requirements. Otherwise, the Valparaiso Denizens would deftly search out a different means to an end and quite possibly just walk back out into the outskirts and pick up whatever loose articles that could be found.

The Valparaiso Denizens that were left with the Tourist were not an unthinking bunch, despite being an unfortunate people. Their circumstances left no real impact on their actual intelligence, though education may not have been sufficient in stimulating such. There were other methods, and certain manners that stood out to they, the smarter of the Valparaiso Denizens. Cunning, for one, and wit, especially. Certainly, the one who lacks the book smarts is known more for street smarts and application of intelligence in that manner. Though different, the intelligence remained the same, despite application of it. So, to have smarter people ready to work, their labor, too, had to fit and benefit their needs for mental sustenance and not completely mindless drone work without explanation.

"Well, I guess there are a lot of rocks around, sorta." More or less, the land was flat and barren, with the occasional obstruction or protrusion, but most being too large and heavy to be dealt with by a single person, or even a group. There were some, but few. They were there, yet scarce. The resources were all around, but none that seemed relevant, and also still widely spread. "It might take us several hours, if not days to go up and down the flatlands and get a large assortment of rocks." They were, at the very least, familiar enough with the territory and how barren it actually was and for what distance.

But see, the Valparaiso Denizens quickly figured out that doing things like that was too much effort and not enough promise, so before making any solid concrete decisions, they whispered about themselves, speaking of many things. There was talk of the city and its recent takeover, especially, with emphasis on the machines. There was also talk of the strange manner and abilities of the foreigner to the land, which they also took into account in speculation. They didn't speak too long nor too loudly about any of what was discussed, but they did indeed come to terms with whatever sort of words were exchanged between them and about what. There was consensus, then there was a break in the group, and many of them spread out to go to different locations. Yet, there was also a mass of them that remained and didn't say nor do anything except remain, marking the area with their own presence for the others to return to, if they would return at all. They knew the unspoken laws of the lawless land. No one was bound to anything. The ones that left did not have to return. Hell, they didn't even have to be on good terms with this foreigner, either, if they didn't want to. Anyone could do anything, and that was something they held firmly to. Whomever would return would do so with whatever intent they had, be it malign or benign. All that could be done was see what was what and how whomever would do whatever.

Those that stayed, as very few as they were, did not say anything about the ones leaving, but did in fact speak on the labor that they were requested to carry out. "So, what's the deal with those rocks?" He asked. "I wanna know what kind of work we're doing. Who we're working for." He shrugged passively, looking toward the distance. "It's the least you can do, I'd wager, to tell us a little bit about what's going on." Surely, this man was all ears. Not like there was anything else to do.

As desperate as the Valparaiso Denizens were for work, they still had their pride, if that was all they had left. In their rags and disarray, they at least felt like they weren't being looked down upon because they didn't have anything left between each other. However, this new person with their fancy powers and whathaveyou was another story, completely. Belligerently insulted after extending services that they barely even really wanted to do, they knew for certain that they were definitely to a definitive not engaging in this exchange now.

However... This person still was of some use to them, so they were going to play it cool. All of them naturally felt the same way or similarly due to being brought up and growing in the same general environment, so they had a similar notion of what they all were thinking from the very beginning. Still, nobody made any sudden movements. As shifty as they were among themselves just with each other, doing things every day that were so sketchy, you'd think you saw the hand that did it in the shadows, they were already prepared for anyone else being equally as such automatically.

Now, what some of them didn't know was that others of them had some powers, because they were just that treacherous and secretive, however, they were still going to use them immediately as necessary after the people that didn't know did some things. They were layered in their depth of secrecy, even and especially to each other, as a society and an actual community of shifting underhands and passtells. So, whilst the fast-talking one went out to talk, as usual, while everybody else sat back and kinda just watched, they would start whispering between each other about those rocks. Then, they dipped off into the darkness without another word.

The fast-talker, see, was already keeping open communication the entire time. Still, he wasn't in on what was going on behind the scenes, because he was doing all of this 'Speaking For The Crowd' of his own free will without anyone else organizing nor communicating it with him. Thus, he continued on as he was, as if nothing happened. "Aight." And that was it. There was brevity of silence and a stark look on the face as if having whiffed a foul odor of an unpleasant aroma, then a very swift and crisp turn of the head.

They 'got to kicking.'