“Hey.” Runa said as he walked up to the bar. “Whaddya got?”
The Bear looks at him “Drinks. Food. What do you need?”
Clown looks around “Where did two of you go?”
“Answers.” Runa says. “What do you know of the clown man?”
“Wow. Is that a myth or something? You talking about some of the fellows back in the Named side? I mean I’m Named myself but I usually just sell drinks.”
He nods. “Fair enough. So this is where the nameless people live? Why is it so…run down, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Because noone really cares about this place. Except me. I sell drinks for quick cash.”
“Sounds like quite the problem for the locals.” Runa observes. “I understand that they lost their name and likely their stuff, but what is it that stops them from banding together to try and…‘fix that’ for lack of a better term?”
“Simply. Lack of power. Also fighting is kinda rampant. Being Nameless drains one of… Their usual abilities.”
The mix of interest and annoyance on Runa’s face was hidden by his mask. ''Well, that seems like an important detail to be left off the arrival letter." He says. “Something tells me the person running this place likes his cruel surprises.”
“Wait. You think someone actually runs this place?”
“Someone had to make the notes. Someone had to create the station. Someone had to bring us all here.” Runa says, trying to explain his position.
“Someone made this place. The place kinda… Automatically enforces it’s rules.”
“Oh, okay.” Runa said to him. But why’d they make it… He thought to himself. “Well, thank you kind sir. Do you take any currency, or is there a certain kind I need to give?”
“Currency Conversion machine is over there.”
The bear waves his paw at a machine in the back.
“Okay.” He says as he walks over, converting 10 USD to the currency used here, then gave it to the bartender. “For the information. Again, thanks.” He says, before walking out.
The bear looks at the money “Did he even buy a drink?”
Clown stands by himself looking at the others meander.
Runa walks up to Clown. “Sorry, curiosity got the best of me.”
No.7 looks at the blank slate.
The slate shimmers oddly. Maybe a touch will do something? Maybe it’s an initiation for an in game transition.
Clown nods. “Not like anyone is doing anything anyway.”
No.7 touches it for curiosity sake.