RDR4

John felt reality melt away and a new one solidify around him. No longer was he in his apartment. Now he was standing on a dirt street in a small town. Wooden buildings stretched ahead of him with hand painted signs indicating a hardware store, a gunsmith and a grocers. A butcher had a small stall out on the street, prepared to buy or sell any kind of meat - without the benefit of refrigeration! Along the street, there were no cars, only horses or carts. Of course, this was an approximation of the year 1895, and, he was pretty sure, if he rode the horse that had materialized beside him, when he got to the end of town he would find a sign saying Rhode.

He was in RDR4, a version not yet released of a popular open world franchise based on the end stages of the wild-west. Yet, although he knew himself to be in the game, the dirt on the road felt real. He could smell horse-shit. The wind blew at the brim of his hat. It was almost impossible to tell, except that he knew he had put himself here.

And, John had someplace to go.

As he neared the saloon, ignoring the people he met, he could hear the sounds of a piano being played loudly and badly. Fuck that was awful. Still he could put up with it.

It was hard not to think of the folk he passed as being dressed up for some fancy dress event. The men wore generally functional western clothing while the women wore corseted full busted dresses of assorted colors with hooped underskirts which skimmed the floor as they moved. Definitely less functional. NPCs all of them of course, but still, there was fun to be had.

Of course in this saloon, which actually appeared to be a little upmarket, the women were whores -which made it a perfect location for John's first guest of the evening to spawn.