The Market

[travelagency]

Who: Merchants, Reporters, and You
What: Open Market
When: M9 D13
Where: The center of town, near the resort
Notes & Warnings: Here is how the market works...

The marketplace is a large open air affair in the middle of town, with a couple of dozen vendors out supplying wares. For the most part they're local crafstmen and farmers; it is post harvest time now, and the last of the fresh vegetables are being sold off before it gets really cold (various tubers, fruits, roots, wheat, etc). There are also cooks with a variety of foods, so everything smells pretty good. There are even pierogi and sausages along side more unusual fusion foods like deep fried gagh on a stick.

Unfortunately, it's raining and while it's not a drenching rain, if you're not used to the rain an umbrella probably wouldn't go amiss.

There are a few odd stands, though. External stands, brought in by merchants that don't want to permanently reside here but are happy to do some sales for the resort. Sure they have to earn in the planetary currency, but they can buy a few unique items from here to take back with them before they go. That makes the trade worth it for them, and Blackstaff needs all the external trade it can get (even if the outside vendors doing the trading are a little dubious and are probably breaking the law just by being here during the quarantine).

In the meantime, with Blackstaff's cooperation Upsher and Doff have set up a booth in the middle of the market. Imports receive additional pay for going inside and answering their questions, and Jeffers is very adamant that imports should participate. It may help out their current situation by showing the universe what widely varying worlds are represented by the resort and attaching real faces and voices to the people of Quadratus.

Comments

[vengeance_driven]

[He lightly bonks Tuco on the head with the book.] Come on, man. Let me get you out of this rain. I'll ah, get you something to eat? How is that?

[theugly]

[He doesn't reply immediately. Instead, he actually frowns, eyes narrowing like the offer of a free meal is worthy of all the suspicion in the world. Of course, what Niko can't know is that the last time someone reached out to him like that, it ended with a Union corporal's meaty fingers digging into his eye-sockets like the man was a damn prospector.]

I, uh...

[He glances away for a moment, rocking on his heels—the back and forth motion acting like a kind of metronome of indecision.]

Yeah. [Then, more confidently:] Yeah! Why not? It's better to eat than drown, hm? [He manages another lopsided grin.] After you!

[vengeance_driven]

[He notes that uncertain look.] We don't have to.

But there's a good pizza place. Is right over there. [And he starts going in that direction, figuring Tuco could follow if he wants. He does wonder what that was about, though. At least it ended in another smile.]

[theugly]

[He pauses just long enough to remove his hat and tip the tiny pool of water from it, before following with a jog-turned-walk.]

Pisaplace, [he repeats carefully, peering up at each sign they walk past.] Never heard of it.

[vengeance_driven]

It's got pretty good food. [Niko doesn't even catch the lingual misunderstanding- he has them so often he forgets other people do, too. But unlike when he and Boone were so drunk they could barely walk, this time the journey is quicker, and he leads Tuco inside.]

[The entire interior smells like Italian seasoning, even if most of the food here is local near equivalents. It's small and homey and the waitress roaming around has four arms. Niko's gotten used to it by now, so he doesn't pay her a second glance.]

[theugly]

[The smell has Tuco flaring his nostrils the moment he edges his way through the door. It doesn't remind him of home or anything, no, but his stomach lets its opinion be known with an angry little growl—a quick, deep gurgle that no doubt roughly translates to, "This'll do! Now let me eat!"

Awkwardly shrugging his jacket off, he makes his way over to a table and sets himself down. Rather than looking for or at a menu, he lets his eyes drift over to waitress, first keying in on those extra limbs, before inevitably sliding lower. Brief evaluation done, he turns back to Niko, staring at him expectantly.]

[vengeance_driven]

[She does have one pair of very nice legs. Niko is quick to order a soda, a cheese pizza, and some breadsticks since those are good enough.]

[When he's done, he turns his attention to Tuco.] Hey, other than the fuck up with the darts you've been doing pretty good. Used to shitty places with lots of things that try to kill you? [He says it lightly, but that's really where Niko's job experience comes from.]

[theugly]

[That earns Niko a wry smile and a head tilt that acts as both a nod and a bow.]

I'm lucky, [he begins, spreading his hands.] You replace the spiders with ugly bastards, I had a lot of practice. Where I come from, people aren't so friendly.

[He lets his palms drop back down to the table like that's explanation enough.]

What about you, huh? What's your excuse?

[vengeance_driven]

People aren't so friendly. You learn to deal with it or get walked on. It helps you shoot stupid skeletons later.

[They're pretty stupid skeletons. They have shit aim- even if it really hurts when they hit you.]

[He hunches forward, arms folded on the table.] Is good, anyway. This place? It can be better than home. But is still not perfect. It's just easier to get by.

[theugly]

It's different, [he confirms, pressing a finger down on what he assumes is a salt crystal.] But I been here long enough now to know most people's heads are the same way... even if they got two of them.

[He allows himself a dumb half-smile at that.]

I was a soldier. [His eyes flick up.] Before I came here. One time, anyway.

[vengeance_driven]

[That warms him up. And he sits up a little.] Ah, guerilla warfare? Army? Merc work? I'm curious.

[She brings their drinks, and Niko nurses his dark cola in front of him for a bit. And wonders if he should have gotten a float. Not the most badass thing, but pretty good anyway.]

[theugly]

Army, [he says, shrugging like it's no big deal.] Back before I had short hairs, I spent a little time in Diaz's Second Cavalry. Then, years later, just when you think you done dying for some pig—

[Spotting the waitress rounding in on them, he trails off mid-sentence, grinning suddenly. He even sits a little straighter, and—having left himself entirely at Niko's mercy by ordering the "same again"—pauses to stare at his own glass for half a beat.

When she's well out of earshot, he relaxes again, shoulders slumping.]

Four arms. [There's a quiet snuff as he sighs through his nose. Apparently the conversation has shifted again, because he then subtly thumbs in her direction.] You ever...?

[vengeance_driven]

[Niko agrees fully, obviously softening up at the mention of having fight for assholes with beliefs he didn't agree with. It's sadly a problem of Niko's- being far too trusting of intentions. In any case, it's nice to hear people agree with his views.]

They don't really do you any favors, even after the war.

[He looks over at her, and then shrugs lightly.] There are some pretty ladies here. Some have scales. Some have hair like flowers and good fingers. And some have four arms. I bet they could do a lot.

[He's polite enough to keep his voice down.] But I have not had the pleasure with this type of woman, no.

[theugly]

Two steps into the cathouse, I learn that maybe Tuco wants to fuck a plant.

[Which, as a standalone sentence, doesn't put him in the best light, but he rucks his brow like it's a totally normal thing to say.]

What about you? [Half a beat.] ...A soldier, I mean. You talk like you know a thing or two.

[vengeance_driven]

Once someone has seen her it's not so strange a thing. [He snorts softly. But then he continues.] I grew up in a very bad war. A civil war. Nothing civil about them.

[He takes a drink of his soda, knowing eventually it's going to lead to a burp and a half.]

But it means I can use a gun and am good at wilderness now.

[theugly]

[Something about Niko's phrasing there must have struck Tuco as funny, because he suddenly presses his lips together, suppressing a smirk.]

Sure, [he agrees, his mouth quickly evening out again.] When you done learning how to shoot, you learn how to drink. Then, if you lucky, you remember how to sleep, too, huh?

[vengeance_driven]

Learn women, too. Girls love a soldier. [He says with a gruff sort of laugh.] Luckily there's a lot of that here and less of the hassle. And the girls at the brothel are pretty classy. They'll even where whatever you want.

You want them to change, they have something on hand.

[theugly]

Then it's too bad for me I forget my uniform, [he says, sighing dramatically.] But who knows... a place like this, maybe they love guides, instead.

[He reaches for his glass, turning it on the spot. He's watching Niko from beneath his eyebrows.]

You like a little dress up, hm? [Again, he looks suitably amused.] Like what, nuns?

[vengeance_driven]

No, man. Most of my village was Catholic, the nuns would beat you. [But he shrugs lightly.] I don't know. I like ah... polite shit. Sweaters and soft things.

Not that the other stuff isn't good, too. But a soft feeling woman? It makes all of the difference.

They do like guides pretty good here, though.

[theugly]

[Although he could easily mention that some people like being beaten, or agree that yes, a little softness really does make a hell of a lot of difference, all he comes out with is:] Sweaters?

[vengeance_driven]

They're ah... woven things. Like knit, but softer. They're not particularly shapely unless you put the right girl in them, but the right girl can make most things look good, right?

[Niko always thought Kate looked amazing in hers, but he doesn't want to feel that thought too loudly in front of Tuco.]

[Thankfully it's that part of the conversation when they receive their breadsticks, and some of their food for eating.] Dig in, friend. Might as well enjoy it while it's plentiful.

[theugly]

Right.

[He leans back in his chair as the food is set down, eyes darting from one plate to another.

It's hard to say whether he should blame Angel Eyes or a lifetime of poverty, but being presented with a table full of food, and being urged to eat? Well, it fills him with just a little trepidation.

He reaches up and "casually" smoothes the ends of his moustache down, before grabbing a couple of breadsticks.]

And hey, if it feels good? [He shrugs lightly.] I don't let my eyes do all the seeing.

[He's clearly back to talking about women again, but, having snapped the end off one of the breadsticks, he uses it to gesture down to the spread in front of him.]

So what the hell am I looking at?

[vengeance_driven]

It's a pizza. An Italian food thing. Cheese and meat. It'll be hot so don't eat it too fast, you might burn your mouth.

[He notices that Tuco looks uneasy, though.]

...Look ah... you can get me some booze sometime if you want this to be fair. I don't mind sharing. I probably shouldn't eat all this shit by myself and you're pretty good company.

[theugly]

[As luck would have it, that seems to have done the trick. Tuco just nods, sets the breadsticks down once more, and reaches for a slice.

...Scratch that, three slices.]

Sure, [he says, eyes down as he begins rolling one up into a tube.] I like Pugsy's. You, uh... you see Tuco around there, you welcome to name your poison.

[Then, as a distracted afterthought:] You're not so bad, either.

[vengeance_driven]

Hey, no problem. [And he doesn't have a problem with a ravenous apetite. Hell, when he eats he tends to swallow items like a snake.]

I'll do that. I used to go with a friend of mine, but because he is patrol he gets funny looks. Not that I blame them, but the patrol people here aren't so bad.

Somehow. [He still sounds like he's genuinely surprised by that, like how can cops be good people?]