Multiple Choice Meetup
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Date: 12/08/2018 Time: 14:00 EST |
Open on Tuesday, Saturday and Sunday, the Eastern Market is almost like a
town square - one of the few places a cross section of folks from the region
regularly gather. It is crosshatched by streets filled with covered sheds,
and on special days, filled with street vendors beneath colorful tarps.
Parking is located centrally around the main sheds, where the restrooms are
located, and the ATM's. On Saturday mornings, especially during summer, the
Eastern Market teems with people buying fresh apples, blueberries and roses
from farmers who have driven here from across the Midwest. On one side of the market, there's R. Hirt Jr. & Co., one of the best places to pick up fresh cut meat and gourmet cheese. On the other side is the Russell Street Deli, whose breakfast - omelets, pancakes, and the like - draws a long line, especially on weekends. In between are over 150 vendors housed under five sheds. In addition, there are more than 140 other businesses in the district that are open all week. Hard to find ingredients, local produce, tantalizing dining options, and core services - you name it, the Market has it. |
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Cast: | |
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Mid Saturday, Dec 8, 2018 The weather today is brisk and refreshing. Alma has finished shopping. She walks over to where she parked her bike against a tree and straps a canvas bag to the back. She's not leaving, though. She camps out on a patch of ground after covering it with a small tarp she unrolled from the other canvas bag strapped to her bike. After settling in, she pulls out cards and shuffles. Someone walks by and asks a question, but she sends them on their way after what must be polite chitchat because they don't look angry, or even confused. Max disagrees about the weather being refreshing. She's bundled up against the cold, a scarf tucked into her jacket and thin, woolen gloves on her hands. She's here either way, though, and at the time she said she'd be here. She lifts a blue-clad hand in greeting as she spots Alma, offers a quick smile, and greets once she's close enough for her naturally mousy voice to be heard, "Hi, Alma. How're you doing?" Alma's looking thoughtfully at the Knight of Wands. When Max shows up, Alma puts her cards away. "Mostly good. Shopping's done." She looks at the bundled up girl. "Would you like to sit here? I have a thermos of hot chocolate to share. Or we can walk around. You're new? Have you visited the market before?" "No, it's new to me," Max says. She takes the time to look around it carefully. "It's pretty here. Do you like it?" Alma looks around to re-evaluate the place. Decides again, "It is." She schooches off her tarp and starts rolling it up, "I like borders and edges and this place has multiple borders." She smiles at Max, "It's a good place to shop too. Want to see a place where someone makes potraits with paper cutouts? and... maybe tell me why you wanted to meet?" She watches Max carefully. "Sure, that sounds like fun," Max agrees, a little smile on her lips. "Is it, like, they project your shadow onto a piece of paper, and cut it out?" "I didn't watch them do it. They weren't demoing at the the time. The piece I liked--It looked like she had cut out strips of paper and then layered them over each other to make something to suggest a bird. I bought it to give..." Alma thinks about it, "Yeah, they make nice gifts. I splurged." She guides Max towards the booth while talking. Max keeps pace companionably as Alma talks. "Someone special?" she guesses. There's an "oh" of disappointment. "I guess she's already shut down for the day." She watches Max carefully while answering her question. "It was complicated. I was bringing someone into the shade and this person," she waves her hand towards the closed booth, "gaves us a seat while my friend cooled down. It was awkward, and they were patient. Special with a bit of sting in it, to be honest." <<DICE>> Alma rolls perception + empathy, difficulty 6 <<DICE>> 2 successes (2 5 5 6 10, Specialty: No, Willpower: No <<DICE>> Comment: was there anything nefarious about Max's questio <<OOC>> Alma says, "I'm pretty sure OOC that Max isn't being nefarious, but Alma is a bit edgy right now <<OOC>> Max says, "She isn't. She's trying to be solicitous; to draw Alma out. A combination of interest and sympathy. Max nods thoughtfully, pulls out her phone, and snaps a picture ofo the tent before putting it back into her satchel. "Did you want to tell me about the sting or the special?" "It's all mixed, really. The purchase of a gift in the context of someone having a panic attack. If the person hadn't had the panic attack, there would be no gift." Alma's slightly strained expression relaxes. "I've bought scarfs that way before." She starts to walk again, "What do you think of Aaron? I have opinions about him. He's dangerous." <<DICE>> Max rolls arete, difficulty 5 <<DICE>> 1 success (1 5 9, Specialty: No, Willpower: No) <<OOC>> Max scans the future a round to see what happens if she's honest. Max's right hand reaches forward, toward something ineffable, fingers curled into a half-claw like she's grasping a large, invisible dial. As she does, she admits, "I was a little uneasy. When a thirty-year-old man wants to meet a twenty-year-old woman at a bar, and he's flashing around his money while her does it, it's hard to tell if he's just showing off or if there's something going on there. But he was nice to me. What do you think of him?" <<DICE>> Alma rolls awareness + perception, difficulty 6 <<DICE>> 2 successes (1 5 6 8 9, Specialty: No, Willpower: No) Alma can tell something happened, but not much more than that Alma stops in place and plants herself. "Something just happened. Did you feel it?" She looks around. one of her hands is fisted in her jacket pocket. <<DICE>> Alma rolls arete, difficulty 6 <<DICE>> FAIL (1 5 9, Specialty: No, Willpower: No) <<DICE>> Comment: use prime to see what magical affects are happening and targetting Alma (In discussion with TUT I found out that the difficulty should be 5) Max blushes. "I'm sorry. That was me. I was looking at something. I'll stop." She shrinks into herself, shoulders hunching miserably. Alma's mouth opens. closes. "Were you trying to see if I speak the truth? It's understandable. Aaron has pretty low opinions of me. I don't know what he told you." "What?! No!" Max gasps, shocked enough to look Alma in the eye for a second. "Why would I want to come see you if I thought you were a liar?" "But, but," Alma gets excited, "It's not... it's behavior and knowledge. Not an identity. I can be mistaken, or wrong, or evasive. I mean, I don't care if you need to look at me that way to feel safe around me. And, and," She starts to count of things then gives up. "I spend time with people who have--they have something like that insight on almost all the time. It's exhausting. but insightful because I've rethought emotions completely by spending time with them. I mean, waht does it even mean? It's an energy. Like sweating, in some sense. a level of activation. So, uh," She's slown down now. Then says calmly, "It's ok. I don't have a problem with you wanting to understand things. I /would/ have a problem with you trying to change things about me." Max does her best to follow that, and admits, "I don't really follow you, but okay." Alma hmms. "I don't know if you want me to go into it. It might take too long. I'll tell you what I think of Aaron. He was nice enough to me at first. He even helped me in a sticky situation. He's well-meaning, I think. "I also think he's dangerous. He is part of a tradition that burns through people. scorched earth." "How so?" "Maybe you've met Alexandra? They are partners." Alma's mouth compresses to a line. "She said in her tradition they would burned out my mind for the things I've said. If I told someone that, I would be making preparations to burn out their mind. But, aside from personanl risk," Alma considers how to finish the thought, "I don't trust someone who can be so angry /and/ impulsive with that much power. Destruction plus lack of forsight." Max thinks for a long minute about how to respond to that, and eventually says, "Alma... do you know that I don't know what you're talking about? Like, I'm getting parts of it, but I feel like I'm listening to one half of a phone conversation, you know?" Alma sighs in exasperation, "It seemed linear to me. You asked for my thoughts on Aaron. I told you what I think of him /and/ his Tradition. You asked for clarification. I clarified by bringing up his partner as an example and her approach to things to illustrate their scorched earth approach--i.e., thinking my mind should be wiped out. The entire history of why she thought that doesn't matter--you don't need the entire transcript of a phone conversation--the choices she makes with information she's given, that's what matters. Her, Aaron, their tradition. They make destructive choices where they shouldn't. They also fence themselves in by the choices they make. Approaches like that are why California is on fire or why there's so much flooding along the Mississippi. I'm a behavioral ecologist. I know what happens more than most when people end up trying to engineer systems." "Oh," Max says meekly, miserably, and shrinks into herself again. "I'm sorry I didn't understand." Alma looks confused, then somewhat dismayed at the misery. "No, uh, I'm not... Ok. I /did/ get exasperated at you, but I also got exasperated at myself. Somtimes I /am/ assuming too much context when I talk to people. or sometimes I'm trying to pull together too many threads. Anyway, I think..." Alma tries to figure out what exactly she thinks. "Tell me when I'm not making sense. I should know when that happens." She puzzles through some more. "I hope you reconsider being sorry for not understanding. I think not understanding is fine. Look, I'm not much with people. Do you want to meet my bird?" "I'm sorry, I just feel like such an idiot," Max mutters, hugging herself against more than the cold. "I thought you needed something I can give, but I can't help you; I don't even know you." She doesn't at Alma. "What made me think I could--? I should go." She tightens her satchel around herself, uselessly, and says, "Thanks for meeting with me. I'm sorry for everything." She's still looking down at a spot somewhere to the right of Alma's knee, and her ears are on fire. "Please," Alma isn't sure how to react, "It's too early for you reach those conclusions. I don't want to keep you if you are busy. Will you meet Wednesday? and Emma? And maybe you can meet me another time where I don't talk about Aaron or the Order." "I-if you want," Max mutters, eyes still fixed on the ground. "When do you want me to?" "Are you near WSU often? Next time you are there, text me to see if I'm around. I can show you the roof of the Hall of Science. There's a greenhouse on top. ...and Telescopes too, speaking of Emma. We both have an office there. You could stop by and meet her too. She's one of the three people everyone could agree on for leadership. Wednesday is the other. Here," She pulls out her notebook and her phone to transcribe contact information for Wednesday and Emma. "Here's how you can get in touch with them. And, uh, If you aren't around Wayne State, we can meet in some other part of town. I'm all over, especially in Measure 2 areas. I'm doing a population study of corvids. There's also... maybe you'd like to do a Christmas Bird Count? Not literally on Christmas. Or maybe just a backyard count. I've been thinking of inviting people over for one." Max peeks up at Alma for just a second, and nods once, quickly. "Okay. I will, Alma. When--" She swallows. "When will it be, what do I need to bring, what should I study, where should I be?" Alma's spirits lift, and she stutters a little as she considers what she needs to do to get organized. "I, I wasn't even sure I'd run one. I mean, sometimes people just aren't into it. But I thought maybe it would be nice to invite a group to watch in my backyard. I haven't made up my mind when. I'll contact you within a couple of days once I know more." Max's eyes are floorbound again as she lifts one hand in a little wave. Then she turns on her heel and flees, shoulders hunched like she's expecting a blow from behind, legs stiff for long, fast strides. | |
